"Needn't worry," said Fraser. "Just listen to that rumpus down street."
The disjointed music of a wheezy accordion was rending the night. With it sounded the regular stamp of feet.
Now, the trooper rounded the corner. A moment and, through the window, Lounsbury and the officer saw him enter the door.
He slipped down to a seat beside Old Michael. There he stayed for a while. Whenever a brother trooper looked his way, he called him up by the crooking of a finger and whispered to him. Before long a knot of men had again surrounded him. But this time their attention was all for the table at the rear of the room.
There the game was going on. Matthews' chip-pile showed where the winnings were gravitating. In the dim light there was a strained look on the faces of the players.
Deal after deal passed. Finally, one of the five, having no more disks before him, pushed back his chair and got up.
As he stood, dazed and dismayed, the trooper who had been ejected appeared at his side, clapped him upon the back and spoke. At their elbows was the knot that had gathered at the stove.
The next moment the trooper turned to the table and snatched the pack of cards from Matthews' hand. He held up one, pointing at its back; snapped it down; pointed at a second, then scattered the pack in the air.
Lounsbury and Fraser whipped round the corner and in through the door.
An uproar greeted them—"Cheat!" "Clean him out!"