Steve bunched his four cards carefully and laid them on the table, face down. "Certainly not. Oh, no! He didn't go to do it. But he did it, just the same," he said bitterly. "Now, look here! I don't think there's anything wrong--not for a minute. Nothing worse'n dumb, idiotic thumb-hand-sidedness. I specially don't want no one else to get mixed up in this," with a glance at the Stockman. "So you and the Judge needn't feel called upon to act as seconds. But I'm vexed. I'm vexed just about nine thousand dollars' worth, likely much more, if my hand hadn't been tipped. _Mira_!" addressing the dealer, who sat quietly holding the pack in his left hand, his right resting on the table. "I've a right to _call_ for my card turned up, haven't I?" "Sure thing," said the dealer equably. "All right, then. One bad turn deserves another. But--plenty _cuidado!_ If any card but the eight of hearts turns up, protect yourself, or somebody's widow'll be in a position to collect life insurance, and I ain't married! Turn her over." He leaned lightly on the table with both hands. Their eyes met in a level gaze. "Let her zip!" said the Eminent Person. Without hesitation he dropped the card over. No slightest motion from either man, no relaxing of those interlocked eyes. A catching of breaths-- "The eight of hearts!" This in concert by the quartette of undisinterested witnesses. The two Principals looked down, then. That the Eminent Person's free hand had remained passive throughout bore eloquent testimony to nerve and integrity alike. Nevertheless, he now ran that hand slowly through his hair and wiped his forehead. "That was one long five seconds--most a week, I guess. Did you ever see such a plumb dam-fool break in your whole life?" he said, appealingly, to the crowd. "I guess," said Steve sagely, pushing the eight-spot in with his other cards--"I guess if you'd separated from a thousand big round dollars to draw a card and then got it turned over, _you_ wouldn't have cared a whoop if your left eye was out, either. It _is_ warm, ain't it?" He sat down with a sigh of relief. The Stockman bunched his cards idly and tapped the table with them. The Judge was casually examining the chandelier with interest and approval. Presently, he looked down and around. "Oh, thunder! What are you waiting for, Thompson? I pass, of course!" he said testily. Steve shoved in his pile. "As I mentioned a while ago, you're not obliged to call this," he said demurely. "Just suit yourselves." One card at a time, with thumb and forefinger, the Eminent Person turned over his hand with careful adjustment and alignment. After much delay, he symmetrically arranged an Ace-full, face up, and regarded it with profound attention. "That was a right good-looking hand, too--before the draw," he remarked at last, sweeping them into the discard. "Ye-es," assented the Stockman, mildly dubious. "It might have taken second money--maybe." He tossed in four deuces.