'Heeled, kid,' he repeated. The voice was as nearly dead and expressionless as a human voice can be; only the words themselves carried his insolence. 'Please, can I play in your game?' To Barbee's youth it was plain challenge and, though he hated the man with his whole soul, Barbee's youth answered hotly: 'I'll take you on, Jim Courtot, any day.' Thereafter Courtot ignored Barbee. He turned to Longstreet and watched him deal five cards face down. Then he appeared to lose interest in everything saving his own hand. Longstreet dealt the second five cards, faces up. They fell in the order of nine, four, jack, ace and, to himself, a seven. He did not believe that the new player had seen any but his own card. Barbee, to whose lot the ace had fallen, placed his bet. There was bright bitter challenge in his eyes as he stared across the table at Courtot. 'Ten bucks to start her off,' he said shortly. Longstreet had supposed it customary to begin with a dollar; in his mind, however, there was little difference between one and ten. Therefore he made no remark and placed his own money in the pot. The two Mexicans tossed their cards away. Courtot, looking at no one, and without speaking, came in. Longstreet dealt a second round. Now Courtot had two fours in sight; Barbee had two aces; Longstreet a king and a seven exposed, but also a king hidden. When Barbee said, 'Twenty bucks to play,' and said it viciously with a jeering stare at Courtot, Longstreet began counting out his money. But before he had completed the slow process the street door opened. It was Alan Howard. He stood a moment on the threshold, his look one of sheer amazement. He had come looking for Professor James Edward Longstreet, eminent authority upon certain geological subjects. Had anyone told him that he would find his man playing stud poker with Barbee and two Mexicans and Jim Courtot---- 'Barbee!' he cried out angrily, coming on swiftly until he stood over the table. 'What in hell's name do you mean by steering Longstreet into a mess like this?' 'What do _you_ mean?' retorted Barbee hotly. 'What business is it of yours?' 'I mean Jim Courtot,' cut in Howard shortly. 'You know better than to drag any friend of mine into a game with him.' Courtot appeared calm and unconcerned. 'The bet's made, gents,' he said briefly. 'Coming in, Longstreet?' Longstreet looked confused. Before he could frame his answer, Howard made it for him. And he directed it straight to Courtot. 'I haven't had time to tell Mr. Longstreet about all of the undesirable citizens hereabouts,' he announced steadily. 'No, he's not coming in.' 'I imagine you'll spill an earful when you get going, Alan,' said Courtot. 'I'd like to listen in on it.'