"Well, what do you say to crib?" asked the sheriff. "You licked me so bad at it the last time you were here that I hanker to get revenge." "Well, I don't blame you for wanting to get it, but I'll tell you right now that you won't, for I can lick the man that invented crib to-night," laughed the foreman. "Bring out your cards." Shields placed the cards on the table and arranged things where they would be handy while his friend shuffled the pack. The foreman pushed the cards toward his host: "There you are--low deals as usual, I suppose." "Oh, you might as well go ahead and deal," grumbled the sheriff good-naturedly. "I don't remember ever cutting low enough for you--by George! A five!" Blake picked up the cards and started to deal, but the sheriff stopped him. "Hey! You haven't cut yet!" Shields cried, putting his hand on the cards. "What are you doing, anyhow?" Blake laughed with delight: "Well, anybody that can't cut lower than a five hadn't ought to play the game. What's the use of wasting time?" "Well, you never mind about the time--you go ahead and beat me," cried the sheriff. "Of all the nerve!" Blake picked up the cards again: "Do you want to cut again?" he asked. "Not a bit of it! That five stands!" "Well, how would a four do?" asked the foreman, lifting his hand. "It's a three!" he exulted. "All that time wasted," he said. "You go to blazes," pleasantly replied the sheriff as he sorted his hand. "This ain't so bad for you, not at all bad; you could have done worse, but I doubt it." He discarded, cut, and Blake turned a six. "Seven," called Shields as he played. "Seventeen," replied Blake, playing a queen. "No you don't, either," grinned the sheriff. "You can play that four later if you want to, but not now on twenty-seven. Call it twenty-five," he said, playing an eight. Blake carefully scanned his hand and finally played the four, grumbling a little as his friend laughed. "Thirty-one--first blood," remarked the sheriff, dropping the deuce. While he pegged his points Blake suddenly laughed. "Say, Jim," he said, "before I forget it I want to tell you a joke on Humble. He thought it would be easy money if he taught Lee Lung how to play poker. He bothered Lee's life out of him for several days, and finally the Chinaman consented to learn the great American game." Blake played a six and the sheriff scored two by pairing, whereupon his opponent made it threes for six, and took a point for the last card. "As I was saying, Humble wanted the cook to learn poker. Lee's face was as blank as a cow's, and Humble had to explain everything several times before the cook seemed to understand what he was driving at. Anybody would have thought he had been brought up in a monastery and that he didn't know a card from an army mule." Blake pegged his seven points and picked up his cards without breaking the story.