"Not a cent less," the third man announced, loudly. "There ain't
another Peterborough in town."

It was Poleon's deal now, and when he had finished both Stark and
Runnion had disappeared, also the man they had accosted, which
pleased the Canadian, for now that Runnion was eliminated from the
game he might win a little. A steady, unvarying run of bad hands is
uninteresting, and does not occupy one's mind as well as an
occasional change of luck.

Outside Runnion was saying again to Stark:

"She won't go with me, Ben; she don't like me. You see, I made love
to her, and she got mad and wanted me killed."

"She'll never know who you are until it's too late to turn back,"
said the other, "and you are the only man I can trust to take her
through. I can trust you--you owe me too much to be crooked."

"Oh, I'll act square with you! But look here, what's all this about,
anyhow? Why do you want that girl? You said you didn't care for her
that way; you told me so yourself. Been having a change of heart, or
is it your second childhood?" He laughed disagreeably.

"It's none of your business," said the gambler. "I want her, and
that's enough. All you have to do is to take her to St. Michael's
and keep her there till you hear from me. She thinks she is going to
the Mission, and you needn't tell her otherwise until you get her
aboard a steamer; then take her, no matter what kind of a fight she
puts up. You've got a light-rowing skiff, and you'd better keep