“We’ll play for two hundred,” exclaimed the landlord.
Bemis was now thoroughly excited, and the bystanders, accustomed as they were to high play, began to draw nearer to the contestants, and display an unusual interest in the game.
“Will you stand a raise?” asked Bemis, with an air of confident good humor.
“Try it and find out,” replied the landlord, while a close observer could not have failed to note the air of conscious triumph in his manner, so outwardly imperturbable.
“I’ll raise you five hundred dollars, then,” said Bemis.
“I’ll go you another five hundred,” was the answer.
“See here,” said Bemis; “I’ve got the boss hand, but I don’t want to win your money. I’ll raise it a thousand dollars.”
“I’ll see that and raise it another thousand,” came in the coolest terms from his antagonist; but immediately added, as he remembered the fact that Bemis’ bets now covered nearly all his capital: “No, I won’t either. It would be robbery to keep on betting with you. I’ll just call you.”
“Four Tens!” called Bemis, stretching out his hand to take in the stakes, with a smile.
“Hold on a minute,” exclaimed the landlord. “That’s a boss hand, ordinarily, but it don’t win this time;” and he laid down four kings.