My interest, however, was not with the throng, but with Mr. Singleton and Burke, and these I singled out and watched, as they sat somewhat apart, and doing so, meditated many evil things against the latter, but unavailingly. As the game went on, Mr. Singleton from time to time took papers from his pocket and handed them to Burke, for which the latter gave him money in exchange. All the while the poor gentleman lost, and this until the middle of the afternoon, when, with an oath, he pushed all there was before him into the middle of the table. Burke, after a while, and as if hesitating, put up a like amount. Then the end came. Singleton had lost. At this he sat rigid, staring before him, while I, standing by, counted the exhaust of the boat as if it were the pulsations of his life. At last, catching his throat as if choking, striving the while to appear calm, he exclaimed: "You have won, Burke; that is all. I am ruined, and can play no more." Upon this, Burke, drawing the money toward him, answered in a soft, purring voice, as if surprised at what he heard: "I am sorry, Singleton; but I have won honestly, you will admit." To this the other made no answer, but after a moment dropped his face on his arms as they lay extended on the table before him. At this ending, Mr. Davis, who stood back of Mr. Singleton, leaned forward, and looking Burke coldly in the face, said, in a voice so low that it was scarce audible: "You are not sorry, Colonel Burke, but have overreached Singleton, and because of it, should return every dollar you have won." "I have won fairly; it is mine, and I will return nothing," Burke answered, looking up surprised at what the other said. "You have not won honestly, and I must insist that you return the money as I say," Mr. Davis answered, calmly. "Not a cent; not to save his life," Burke answered, scowling. "Yes, you will. You have cheated him, as you have others; and it is not strange, either, for while professing to be a gentleman, you are nothing but a common thief and blackguard, and as such I shall brand you publicly, so that the gentlemen of my country may hereafter know you for what you are." Astonished beyond measure at what Mr. Davis said, Burke fell to trembling as if stricken with palsy; but after a while, his face darkening, he gathered himself together, exclaiming: "You lie, sir, if you say I have cheated Singleton"; and with the words he drew a pistol, and would have killed Mr. Davis had not Uncle Job restrained him. "You are not only a cheat, but an assassin, and would kill me without a chance to defend myself, as you have more than one of my friends. You are a coward, and would not think of resenting what I say unless opportunity offered to assassinate me," Mr. Davis answered, looking Burke in the face, but without moving or raising his voice.