Then, and not till then, did the real situation dawn upon me—I was in the hands of a gang of “three-card” tricksters. I had over forty pounds, which was not mine, on me, and the fashionably-attired stranger who had ingratiated himself into my good graces by some mysterious means was fully aware of that fact. The whole thing, in short, was a cleverly-laid plot to despoil me of my employer’s money.
As the full truth burst upon me I rose from my seat without a word and made my way to the door, intending to seek the landlord’s assistance.
But it was locked from outside! Bending down and applying my eye to the lock I saw the key inserted on the saloon side. This discovery I accepted as furnishing positive proof of the existence of a conspiracy to rob me. As I stood at the locked door, making up my mind that the next step should be on my part, the man who had lured me into the place plucked me by the coat-sleeve and begged me with gentle words to resume my seat and “talk matters over.”
“Give me my money back!” I cried, impetuously, pointing to the five notes which lay on the table. “It does not belong to me,” I went on, entreatingly. “It is my employer’s, and I cannot return to him without it.”
The two other confederates looked at me with sympathetic glances; then I fancied I saw an exchange of eye telegraphy between them and the leader.
“Of course, none of us want to get you into trouble,” he said, soothingly, at the same time pushing me gently back into my seat and taking his place opposite me, “but you must admit that you were willing enough to play the game. No one forced you to it, and what you have lost has been lost in square play.”
“But why is the door locked if it is all fair and above-board?” I shouted, excitedly.
“What! the door locked?” they cried in chorus, with well-simulated amazement.
“Yes, locked from outside,” I continued.
“Ah, from the outside,” replied the leader, smilingly. “That proves we have nothing to do with it. It is an accident, a mistake on the part of someone in the saloon.”