Yet his face was a mask, hiding the emotions within.
One man only among all his observers could read it aright—Nick Carter.
Flood laid aside the deal box lately used, and took another from a lower drawer of the table, of which he alone had the key.
The box appeared to be precisely like the other—but it was not. With slight manipulation, the dealer could lower an invisible plate within, thus widening the slot through which the cards were dealt, allowing the passage of two cards instead of one. The mechanism could not be discovered, except with close examination, and even then a novice would not detect it.
“What’s the matter with the other box?” demanded a player, at once betraying a gambler’s suspicions.
“Nothing that I know of,” said Flood coldly. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, for no reason. I wondered why you shifted, that’s all.”
“Because I wanted to,” said Flood. “I prefer to work with my own tools. Are you suspicious? If so, you are not invited to play.”
“That’s true enough.”
“If my word is of weight with you, however, you may be sure that a false card was never dealt in this place, to my knowledge.”