men, for interrupting you, but this game is crooked"
"Crooked!" exclaimed Shields. "What do you mean?"
"Just what I say. The game is crooked. Keep your seats; don't get excited."
Both Italians nervously stuck their money into their pockets and hung over the table as the Colonel announced, "I have seven hundred and eighty-five dollars which doesn't belong to me"
"What!" they ejaculated in one breath—then looked at each other suspiciously.
"It has been one swindle, you say?" Reifenstein spoke quite deliberately. Laying aside his cards, he rose and stood with his left hand resting upon the table. "May I inquire who is the swindler? Who has the money?"
"I have some of the money—here it is."
"But I do not understand." The German spoke with wrinkled brow, and gaze concentrated upon the American.
Joe Sloan kept his mouth shut, but his pocket opened, and his money disappeared. He fidgeted away from the table, and glanced towards the door. Why didn't Cap Wright come back? It took Cap to handle an awkward holler.
"Mr. Shields," asked the Colonel, "would you mind telling me how much you are loser?"
