Three-Ace Artie again “saw” the other's raise—and dealt the last card.
There was a sudden shuffling of feet, as the crowd leaned tensely forward. A jack fell face up before the Kid—a ten-spot fell before the gambler. Three-Ace Artie showed two pairs—it all depended now on what he held as his “hole” card.
But the Kid, either because he was too fuddled to take the possibilities into account, or because he was drunkenly obsessed with the invincibility of his own three kings, laughed hilariously.
“I got you!” he cried—and bet half of his remaining gold.
Three-Ace Artie's smile was cordial.
“Might as well go all the way then,” he suggested—and raised to the limit of the Kid's last gold eagle.
The Kid laughed again. He had played cunningly—quite cunningly. The gambler had fallen into the trap. All his hand showed was two kings.
“I'll see you! I'll see you!”—he was lurching excitedly in his chair, as he pushed the rest of his money forward. “This is the time little old two pairs are no good!” He turned his “hole” card triumphantly. “Three kings” he gurgled—and reached for the stakes.
“Just a minute,” objected Three-Ace Artie blandly.
He faced his other card. “I've got another ten here. Full house—three tens and a pair of deuces.”