“Sartin,” said Shawmut, fishing in his pocket and producing a greasy pack. “We has ’em.”
“Then I propose that we cut. The one who gets the lowest does the trick.”
That was agreed to, and a moment later the cards had been shuffled and placed on a flat stone near the fire. Henry cut first and exposed a king.
“That lets you out,” said the sailor. “I can beat that. Come ahead, Mate Shawmut.”
Shawmut cut and turned up a trey.
“I reckon I’m the one,” he said.
Then Wiley cut the cards and held up in the firelight a deuce!
Both Henry and Shawmut uttered exclamations.
“Well, you has your wish,” said the latter. “Now it’s up to you to go ahead with the business.”
Wiley actually smiled.