_you_." Now there was audible word of warning. Watts looked as though he wished to interpose, but was checked instantly by Case himself. "Been saving that for--funer'l expenses," said he doggedly, "but I'm backin' this hand for _double_ what's in that." Craney lifted the wallet, shook it, and three fifty-dollar bills fluttered out upon the table. Willett looked steadily at Case one moment before he spoke: "Isn't this a trifle high for a gentleman's game?" said he. "That's what they said at Vancouver, two years ago, when you bluffed out that young banker's son." Willett half rose from his chair. "I _thought_ I'd seen your face before," said he. "What I want to know," said the bookkeeper instantly, all deference to rank or station vanished from tone and manner, "is, do you see my raise now?" There was a moment's silence, during which no man present seemed to breathe. Then slowly Willett spoke: "No, a straight isn't worth it." Whereupon there was a moment of embarrassed silence as the stakes were swept across the blanket-covered table, then a guffaw of rejoiceful mirth from the prospector. Case, as though carelessly, threw down his cards, face upwards, and there was not so much as a single pair. "The drinks are on me, oh, yes," said he, "but the joke's on the lieutenant." Yet when Bonner left, five minutes later and the game again was going on, there was no mirth in it. Nor was there mirth when the sun came peeping over the eastward range this cloudless Sabbath morning, shaming the bleary night lights at the store--the bleary eyes at the table. Bonner found them at it still an hour after reveille, and ventured to lay a hand on Willett's shoulder. "Can I speak with you a moment?" he said. Willett rose unsteadily, but with dignity unshaken by change of fortune. He had lost as heavily, by this time, as earlier he had won. "May I be pardoned for suggesting that you would be wise to get out of this and--a few hours' sleep? The general is up and worried. 'Tonio is gone!" CHAPTER XI.