"Ah!"
"I have seen a man's hand pinned to that card; therefore it is
gruesome."
"Some card-sharper?"
He nodded. "Then again, I lost a small fortune because of that
card,"--diffidently.
"Poker?"
"Yes. Why will a man try to fill a royal flush? The man next to me
drew the ten of hearts, the very card I needed. The sight of it always
unnerves me. I beg your pardon."
"Oh, that's all right," said I, wondering how many more lies he had up
his sleeve.
"And there's still another reason. I saw a man put six bullets into
the two central spots, and an hour later the seventh bullet snuffed the
candle of a friend of mine. I am from the West."
"I can sympathize with you," I returned. "After all that trouble, the
sight of the card must have given you a shock."
Then I stowed away the fatal card and took up my bundle and change. I
have in my own time tried to fill royal flushes, and the disappointment
still lingers with a bitter taste.
"The element of chance is the most fascinating thing there is," the
stranger from the West volunteered.
"So it is," I replied, suddenly recalling that I was soon to put my
trust in the hands of that very fickle goddess.
He nodded and returned to his revolvers, while I went out of the shop,
hailed a cab, and drove up-town to my apartments in Riverside.
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