"They played a little poker in their car on the trip down from St. Louis, and this gave one of the three conspirators a chance to get hold of the bank president's two decks of cards. The conspirators carefully marked these two decks of cards—marked 'em both just the same way—and then, during the temporary absence of the bank president in another part of the car, he elaborately explained to his two companions in infamy how he had done it, the three going over the bank president's two decks in detail, so as to master the markings. Then the two decks were returned furtively to the bank president's grip, and the rest of the playing on the trip down was done with ordinary packs. They never played big on these journeys, anyhow, but reserved their stiff games for the bad-weather days in camp.
"When they got to their point of debarkation on the line, they left their car on a siding and struck out for their regular camp, about seventy-five miles from the railroad. They stuck to the bagging of pelts and antlers for a week or so; then a threatening morning came along and the bank president suggested poker.
"'What's the use?' they all demurred, eying the bank president gloomily. 'You always get the whole works, and then you're insufferable for the rest of the year. We don't think you're on the level, anyhow.'
"'Oh, I'll give you all a chance this time,' said the bank president, grinning. 'I won't be hard upon you. Then, you see, the more you fellows play with me in the game, why, the more you learn about poker, and I'm sure the instruction you get helps you a lot in your games with the dubs up in St. Loo. I'm noted, anyhow, for my generosity in giving others the benefit of my wisdom.'
"'Well,' said the spokesman and arch-conspirator of the three, 'we'll play a little game of table-stakes, but checks don't go; this thing of the three of us writing you checks that keep your large family in opulence for a year is'——
"'All right, let it be table stakes,' replied the bank president amiably. 'I'm not a man to take bread out of the mouths of the impoverished,' and with more of such badinage the game started.
"An ordinary deck was used at first—a deck out of the satchel of the real estate man, the infamous member of the conspiring trio who had marked the bank president's cards. The bank president, as usual, had all of the luck from the jump. He seemed to rake down every pot. The three glared at him and made all sorts of insinuating remarks about the phenomenal luck of the bank president that had continued for a dozen years. The bank president regarded them indulgently, and told them they'd learn the elementary principles of the game after they'd camped with him for another ten years or so.
"After an hour's play the bank president beat the real estate man—the other two had dropped out—out of a stiff jackpot with a pair of better threes, and the real estate man simulated great rage and tore the deck of cards into many pieces.
"'For heaven's sake, give us another deck!' he exclaimed, passionately, with a furtive wink at his two companions in crime.
"The bank president reached back of him, collared his grip, and produced one of his decks with a bland smile. They surely were scientifically marked, for this bank president had an eye in his head, and he didn't get next.