"We are not likely to be interrupted," he said wheezily, "but it never does to chance anything. Shall we cover the window? A light in this room is unusual—"
"Yes, let us cover it." "Poker" John chafed at the delay. "No one is likely to come this way, though."
Lablache looked about for something which would answer his purpose. There was nothing handy. He drew out his great bandanna and tried it. It exactly covered the window. So he secured it. It would serve to darken the light to any one who might chance to be within sight of the shed. He returned to his seat. He bulged over it as he sat down, and its legs creaked ominously.
"I have brought three packs of cards," he said, laying them upon the table.
"So have I."
"Poker" John looked directly into the other's bilious eyes.
"Ah—then we have six packs."
"Yes—six."
"Whose shall we—" Lablache began.
"We'll cut for it. Ace low. Low wins."