“Yes, it was a fair enough fight,” said the one-eyed man. “If it hadn’t been. I’d ha’ looked you up an’ killed you, ’fore now.” “So I reckon,” said Wharton; “you was always quick for a fight, George, an’ I don’t remember as I ever shirked one that was coming my way, did I?” “No, that’s right enough,” said the one-eyed man, indifferently. Then there was another silence and the one-eyed man resumed his game. Presently Wharton spoke again. “Well,” he said, “I reckon there’s no grudge between us on account of the fight. You talk fair enough, an’ I hain’t nothin’ to say, but there’s another thing that ain’t settled. What do you say to that?” “What is it?” asked the one-eyed man, shortly. “There’s a matter o’ seven hundred dollars o’ mine that you got away with in that last game. I called your play crooked an’ I couldn’t prove it, so I don’t hold it against you that you pulled a knife, but I want that money. I hain’t fool enough to think you’re goin’ to hand it over, but I’ll play you a freeze-out for one thousand dollars right now. If I lose, I’ll take back what I said an’ couldn’t prove. If I win I’m satisfied. But God help you if you don’t play straight an’ I do catch you.” “That kind o’ talk is cheap,” said the one-eyed man, contemptuously. “I don’t reckon the Almighty’s goin’ to help anybody much if he’s caught cheatin’ along the Mississippi River, but you can say your prayers now, Jim Wharton, if you think o’ makin’ any breaks at me, like you did once. I’ll play you the freeze-out, an’ what’s more, I’ll win your money unless you’ve learned to play poker since I seen you last. If it’s play, I’ll play you, an’ if it’s fight, I’ll fight you to the finish.” Neither man had raised his voice; they were too much in earnest for that. So no one in the room had seemed to pay attention to them. When the one-eyed man called to Sam, however, to bring him cards and chips for the game, a number of bystanders came up to look on, and among them were the three men who came in with Wharton. A looker-on might have thought that they were expecting an invitation to join the game, but none was given, and they said nothing. The chips were counted out, the two thousand dollars placed in Sam’s hands as payment, and the new deck of cards ripped open and shuffled, and the two men cut for the deal, which fell to Wharton. It was a fruitless deal, for, finding nothing in his hand, he threw in a red chip to cover the two white ones that the one-eyed man had anted, and declared a jack-pot. The one-eyed man made good and took the cards. As he shuffled and dealt them, the other watched him keenly, but evidently saw nothing wrong, though it was impossible not to see, from the way his fingers moved, that he was dexterous to a degree in their use. In four or five hands neither man held openers. Then Wharton caught aces, opened the pot, and took it down, the one-eyed man having nothing. “Your first pot. It’s a bad sign for you, Jim,” he said, jeeringly.