"And now," said he, "for the game."
They arranged the cards; Dungaree cut, and the red-haired man dealt.
After a few rounds the effect of the drug began to tell. The giant's head sank upon his breast, and the little man's eyes twinkled with a vicious glee.
"Wake up, Dungaree," he said; "you're asleep, man."
"By God," said the other, "you've----"
His head dropped once more, and the long, powerful arms hung listlessly by his side.
The red-haired man had started from his seat at Dungaree's words, and in his hand held an open knife, which he had drawn like lightning.
He heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Dungaree's head sink back.
Then rapidly approaching him, he rifled him with a practised hand. He undid the canvas belt from his waist, and felt it heavy as he raised it and transferred it to his own person.
He then moved toward the door, but a sudden thought struck him, and he returned. He took up Dungaree's knife from the table.