Godard took the false card, made a secret sign, and a quick responsive rap sounded from his cuekeeper.
Yet he was ghastly to the lips when he glanced at Nick to see if the deception had been detected.
Nick saw it all right, but his countenance did not change. He saw, too, that Godard was beginning to work under the highest kind of pressure.
The latter raked in a thousand dollars on the turn, and the magnitude of the possibility before him alone enabled him to maintain his nerve.
“Can’t I win a bet?” Nick hoarsely cried, after buying for the third time and losing. “Curse the infernal luck—can’t I win a bet?”
“You are really getting them down a bit unlucky, uncle,” observed Chick, with pretended sympathy.
“So he is, dear man,” said Belle, in persuasive tones.
They now appeared to be wasted upon the irate cattle-dealer, however.
“Gimme some more chips, Godard,” he fiercely growled, slinging a fifth thousand dollars over the layout. “Gimme some more chips, I say! What sort of a dealer hev I been steered up agin’, eh?”
“The deal is all right, sir,” stammered Godard.