He played the ace. Dunston laid the queen and knave on the table. Spencer scored the winning trick before his adversary obtained an opening.
“You have a backbone of cast steel,” commented Dunston, who was an iron-master. “Do you play baccarat?” he went on, with curious eagerness.
“I regret to state that my education was completed in a Western mining camp.”
“Will you excuse the liberty, and perhaps Mr. Hare won’t listen for a moment?—but I will finance you in three banks of a thousand each, either banking or punting, if you promise to take on Bower. I can arrange it easily. I say this because you personally may not care to play for high sums.”
The suggestion was astounding, coming as it did from a stranger; but Spencer merely said:
“You don’t like Bower, then?”
“That is so. I have business relations with him occasionally, and there he is all that could be wished. But I have seen him clean out more than one youngster ruthlessly,—force the play to too high stakes, I mean. I think you could take his measure. Anyhow, I am prepared to back you.”
“I’m leaving here to-morrow.”
“Ah, well, we may have another opportunity. If so, my offer holds.”
“Guess you haven’t heard that Spencer is the man who bored a tunnel through the Rocky Mountains?” said Holt.