"All right," smiled the proprietor. "We'll double the limit."

Thus it became possible to wager $400 on a card, and the Kid began
really to play. Glenister now lost steadily, not in large amounts,
but with tantalizing regularity. Cherry had never seen cards
played like this. The gambler was a revelation to her--his work
was wonderful. Ill luck seemed to fan the crowd's eagerness,
while, to add to its impatience, the cases came wrong twice in
succession, so that those who would have bet heavily upon the last
turn had their money given back. Cherry saw the confusion of the
"hearse-driver" even quicker than did Bronco. Toby was growing
rattled. The dealer's work was too fast for him, and yet he could
offer no signal of distress for fear of annihilation at the hands
of those crowded close to his shoulder. In the same way the owner
of the game could make no objection to his helper's incompetence
for fear that some by-stander would volunteer to fill the man's
part--there were many present capable of the trick. He could only
glare balefully across the table at his unfortunate confederate.

They had not gone far on the next game before Cherry's quick eye
detected a sign which the man misinterpreted. She addressed him,
quietly, "You'd better brush up your plumes."

In spite of his anger the Bronco Kid smiled. Humor in him was
strangely withered and distorted, yet here was a thrust he would
always remember and recount with glee in years to come. He feared
there were other faro-dealers present who might understand the
hint, but there was none save Mexico Mullins, whose face was a
study--mirth seemed to be strangling him. A moment later the girl