“The boys is pretty lively to-night,” said Sam, but the one-eyed man only grunted. “I heer’d Jim Wharton was comin’ down the river this week,” said Sam, cheerfully insistent upon conversation. “‘Twouldn’t be none surprisin’ if he was on the _Rosa Lee_.” The one-eyed man grunted again, but his eye gleamed, and after a moment he said, slowly: “Well, he’ll find me ready for him.” But he kept on playing solitaire as if he had no active interest in anything outside of his game. Neither did he seem to be paying attention to any outside happening, when, after the noise of considerable confusion outdoors, the crowd came straggling back into the barroom. It was not the same crowd, for the _Rosa Lee_ had brought a considerable load of freight, and Long Mike, though insufficiently sober to bear himself with dignity in social affairs, was not too drunk to attend to business, and he remained outside attending to it. Several of his men, who had been with him in the barroom on terms of equality, were now working for dear life while he stood talking to them with all the emphasis of an army teamster addressing a balky span of mules. There were several strangers in the incoming party, though, and the room was even more crowded than before. The boat was not likely to start again for an hour or more, and a number of passengers were stretching their legs. Among the newcomers was a tall, swarthy fellow who swaggered like a lumberman, but was dressed like a dandy, and who looked around as he entered as if in search of some familiar face. With him were three others, as well dressed as he, but all of them having the indescribable appearance and manner which marked them as “professional sports”--in other words, gamblers--and all being of the type that was common along the Mississippi River years ago. The one-eyed man did not look up, but he showed no mark of surprise when the tall stranger, having first called for a bottle of wine, which he shared with his three companions, left them standing at the bar and strolled over toward the card-table. “Howd’ye, George,” he said, quietly enough, but with a curious suggestion of inquiry in his tone. “Howd’ye, Jim,” was the one-eyed man’s response. He did not even look up from his game, and so far as his voice or manner indicated, he was utterly indifferent to the fact of the other man’s presence. He kept on laying down the cards with no show of emotion of any kind, but a close observer might have noticed that he made two mistakes in his play during the short while that the other stood looking on in silence. Presumably the other was a close observer. Gamblers mostly are. Presently the newcomer spoke again: “Bygones is bygones, ain’t they, George?” he said. “Yes,” said the player, for the first time looking straight at his questioner, and speaking very slowly. “Yes, I reckon bygones is bygones. Anyway, my eye is gone.” “Well, it was a fair fight, George?” said the tall man.