About this time Beauty Stanton, with Ruby and another woman, entered the room, and were at once attracted by the game, to the evident pleasure of the visitors. And then, unexpectedly, Larry Red King stalked in and lounged forward, cool, easy, careless, his cigarette half smoked, his blue eyes keen.
“Hey! is that him?” whispered one of the visitors, indicating Larry.
“That’s Red,” replied Hough. “I hope he’s not looking for one of you gentlemen.”
“I’ve seen his like in Dodge City,” said one.
“Ask him to sit in the game,” said another.
“No. Red’s a card-sharp,” replied Hough. “And I’d hate to see him catch one of you pulling a crooked deal.”
They lapsed back into the intricacies and fascination of poker.
Neale, however, found the game unable to hold his undivided attention. Larry was there, looking and watching, and he made Neale’s blood run cold. The girl Ruby stood close at hand, with her half-closed eyes, mysterious and sweet, upon him, and Beauty Stanton came up behind him.
“Neale, I’ll bring you luck,” she said, and put her hand on his shoulder.
Neale’s luck did change. Fortune faced about abruptly, with its fickle inconsistency, and Neale had a run of cards that piled the gold and bills before him and brought a crowd ten deep around the table. When the game broke up Neale had won three thousand dollars.
“See! I brought you luck,” whispered Beauty Stanton in his ear. And across the table Ruby smiled hauntingly and mockingly.
Neale waved the crowd toward the bar. Only the women and Larry refused the invitation. Ruby gravitated irresistibly toward the cowboy.
“Aren’t you connected with the road?” inquired one of the visitors, drinking next to Neale.
“Saw you in Omaha at the office of the company. My name’s Blair. I sell supplies to Commissioner Lee. He has growing interests along the road.”
Neale’s lips closed and he set down his empty glass. Excusing himself, he went back to the group he had left. Larry sat on the edge of the table; Ruby stood close to him and she was talking; Stanton and the other woman had taken chairs.
“Wal, I reckon you made a rake-off,” drawled Larry, as Neale came up. “Lend me some money, pard.”
Neale glanced at Larry and from him to the girl. She dropped her eyes.