CHAPTER IV
SIX SHOOTERS FOR FOUR
COLONEL SPOTTISWOODE, without another glance at the astounded gambler, wheeled and left the deck, vanishing down the grand stair-case. He strode back to the poker game, which was still running, five-handed. Stepping abruptly into the room, he left open the door behind him.
Mr. J. Blair Eaton, after winning the big pot of six hundred dollars, had left the game.
Except for Joe Sloan, the other men were all losers, playing for even; and Joe was playing to win. Which made a tight game, and no sociability. The players scarcely noticed Colonel Spottiswoode's entrance. Shields flung down a worthless hand. "Well, Mr. Spottiswoode, have you come back to get the balance of our chips?" he remarked pleasantly. "Sit in, and try it again."
"No, thank you, I won't play." The Colonel dropped into a vacant chair, and pushed back his hat. With one hand he drew out his wad of money, and with the other, stopped Reifenstein from dealing. "I beg your pardon, gentle-
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