Mainwaring sat down by the open window to smoke a cigar before going to bed, and presently, happening to turn around, he saw that Ketchum was playing poker at a small table near him with another of the men staying at the saloon.
Obeying the instinct of keen observation which had been bred in him by his life on the ranch, the young man began to watch the game with close attention.
Ketchum did not seem to like this. He was still sore, perhaps, at the memory of the meeting earlier in the evening, for he shot angry glances at Mainwaring now and then.
The other player was having a run of the very worst kind of luck. After winning a trifle, the cards went steadily against him. He lost once—twice—thrice—four times running.
He was just about to put down a fifth stake when Mainwaring jumped up from his chair and stopped him.
“Foul play!” he shouted. “Throw up your hand, sir! This game must not go on! You are being cheated!”
Instantly an excited group of spectators came pressing around them.
Ketchum rose to his feet, trembling with passion, and asked fiercely:
“Whom do you accuse of foul play, you young whelp?”
“You—you card sharper and thief!” cried the young rancher.