The hilarious cowpuncher, leaning backward perilously, recovered his poise for a moment and then lurched forward into the chair the youth had just left. "Come on, pardner," he grinned across at the gambler. "Le’s gamble. I been honin’ for a game, an’ here she is." He picked up the cards, shuffled them clumsily and pushed them out for the cut. The gambler hesitated, considered and then turned over a jack. He lost the deal and shoved out a quarter without interest. The puncher leaned over, looked at it closely and grinned. "Two bits? That ain’t poker; that’s—that’s dominoes!" he blurted, angrily, with the quick change of mood of a man in his cups. "I ain’t anxious to play," replied the gambler. "I ’ll kill a li’l time at a two-bit game, though. Otherwise I ’ll quit." "A’right," replied the dealer. "I did n’t expec’ nothin’ else from a tin-horn, no-how. I want two cards after you get yourn." The gambler called on the second raise and smiled to himself when he saw that his opponent had drawn to a pair and an ace. He won on his own deal and on the one following. The puncher increased the ante on the fourth deal and looked up inquiringly, a grin on his face. "Le’s move out th’ infant class," he suggested. The gambler regarded him sharply. "Well, th’ other _was_ sorta tender," he admitted, nodding. The puncher pulled out a handful of gold coins and clumsily tried to stalk them, which he succeeded in doing after three attempts. He was so busy that he did not notice the look in the other’s eyes. Picking up his hand he winked at it and discarded one. "Goin’ to raise th’ ante a few," he chuckled. "I got a feelin’ I ’m goin’ t’ be lucky." When the card was dealt to him he let it lay and bet heavily. The gambler saw it and raised in turn, and the puncher, frowning in indecision, nodded his head wisely and met it, calling as he did so. His four fives were just two spots shy to win and he grumbled loudly at his luck. "Huh," he finished, "she ’s a jack pot, eh?" He slid a double eagle out to the center of the table and laughed recklessly. The deals went around rapidly, each one calling for a ten-dollar sweetener and when the seventh hand was dealt the puncher picked his cards and laughed. "She ’s open," he cried, "for fifty," and shoved out the money with one hand while he dug up a reserve pile from his pocket with the other.