"Can you?" Lablache's husky voice rasped in the stillness.
"Yes."
The dealer eyed his opponent for a second. His face was that of a graven image.
"How many?"
"Three."
The money-lender passed three cards across the table. Then he discarded two cards from his own hand and drew two more.
"What have you got?" he asked, with a grim pursing of his sagging lips.
"Two pairs. Jacks up."
Lablache laid his own cards on the table, spreading them out face upwards for the rancher to see. He held three "twos."
"One to you," said John Allandale; and he went and chalked the score upon the wall.