"What sort of eyesight have you got, cully?" the gambler asked, holding up three cards with their faces outwards, so that the newcomer might see them.
"Oh, I dunno," said Silk, trying to look stupid. "Pretty middlin', I reckon. Why?"
"Say, now," went on the three-card man, "d'you reckon you could locate the king when I throw them out, this way?"
"Why, cert'nly," declared Silk, pointing at one of the cards. "It's that one."
"My!" ejaculated the dealer in pretended surprise. "So it is! You're not such a cariboo as you look. But I bet you five dollars you can't do it a second time."
"Right you are," Silk agreed, producing a five-dollar bill. "Show your money."
For a second time he was allowed to pick out the king and to take possession of the stakes. The table was now surrounded by a pressing crowd of onlookers, including Percy Rapson, who tried to attract the sergeant's attention and to caution him against the certainty of being swindled; but Silk held his face down, shadowed by his wide felt hat, all his attention upon the game.
"You've got the eyes of a lynx," commented the dealer encouragingly. "You'll sure make your pile at this rate. Try once more!"
The cards were thrown again, and again the supposed rancher won. He made a clever show of becoming eager, though he knew that he was only being decoyed to a final plunge. When he had won twenty dollars and the watching crowd had drawn closer, he laughed and glanced across at the sharper.