The shell game was new to Calico, and Calico was anxious to welcome something new. Men jostled each other for a chance to place a bet; while the Saint’s voice boomed a warning to each and all.
“It can’t be beat, brother. The hand is quicker than the eye. Another empty shell.”
“Don’t nobody ever win?” asked a miner.
“Nobody, brother. Again I say to you all, it can’t be beaten.”
The crowd laughed. It was unusual for a game-keeper to declare that no one can beat his game. The Saint was deadly serious, and this amused the crowd. Another man, who had watched several bets swept from the table, moved in and tossed several gold pieces beside the shells.
“Pick up your money, friend,” urged the Saint. “You can’t win. Might as well toss your money into the dust and walk away from it. All right, if you insist. Thank you for the present.”
The man turned away and went toward the saloon door. Duke Steele had been watching the game and now he moved in closer to the Saint, who dug into his pocket and handed Duke a fistful of money.
“Take a spin at the wheel, son. I don’t want to take all of Silver Sleed’s business away from him.”