[Illustration: "This is what I want. How much?" I inquired.]
"Fifty cents; it has never been worn."
I drew out my wallet. I had arrived in town too late to go to the bank, and I was carrying an uncomfortably large sum in gold-bills. As I opened the wallet to extract a small bill, I saw the stranger eying me quietly. Well, well, the dullest being brightens at the sight of money and its representatives. I drew out a small bill and handed it to the proprietor. He took it, together with the mask, and sidled over to the cash-register. The bell gave forth a muffled sound, not unlike that of a fire-bell in a snow-storm. As he was in the act of wrapping up my purchase, I observed the silent customer's approach. When he reached my side he stooped and picked up something from the floor. With a bow he presented it to me.
"I saw it drop from your pocket," he said; and then when he saw what it was, his jaw fell, and he sent me a hot, penetrating glance.
"The ten of hearts!" he exclaimed in amazement.
I laughed easily.
"The ten of hearts!" he repeated.
"Yes; four hearts on one side and four on the other, and two in the middle, which make ten in all,"—raillery in my tones. What the deuce was the matter with everybody to-night? "Marvelous card, isn't it?"
"Very strange!" he murmured, pulling at his lips.
"And in what way is it strange?" I asked, rather curious to learn the cause of his agitation.