“‘Captain,’ he said, ‘won’t you take a hand?’
“‘Well,’ said Captain Foss, ‘I don’t mind playing a little while if none of the other gentlemen object. I didn’t know you were superstitious, though, Dr. Baisley.’
“The doctor frowned. ‘I guess everybody is who plays cards,’ he replied shortly.
“‘Possibly,’ said Captain Foss; and as the other three signified a welcome to him, he drew up a chair and bought some chips.
“It was a curious thing, and to Dr. Baisley it was, no doubt, ‘confirmation strong as proofs of Holy Writ’ of his superstition, but it is a fact that his luck turned from the moment Captain Foss entered the game. He had been a heavy loser before. I could count up over a thousand dollars in chips that I had seen him lose, and I hadn’t seen all the play. But the turn set the chips rolling back to him so fast that he was soon even and then winner to a considerable amount.
“Of the others, one was evidently a commercial traveler who had got into a heavier game than knights of the road often indulge in. Somehow, he did not seem like a gentleman, and I was not greatly surprised when he lost his temper, for his luck had changed also. He had been the largest winner at first, for the other two won and lost in turn, so that they were not far from even. But as the doctor won, he lost, until at length he pulled out what seemed to be his last hundred-dollar bill and bought another stack of chips.
“These, too, he was losing when the doctor beat his flush with a full. Throwing down his cards, he said, with a nasty sneer: ‘It’s evident that you knew who to invite into the game.’
“There was a hush for a moment. Everybody seemed to be holding his breath. We all looked at Captain Foss, and I don’t think anybody would have been surprised to see him draw a weapon. The insult was a frightful one, and, as I said, the Captain could blaze on occasions.
“He blazed this time. There was no motion toward physical violence, but he glared at the fellow as an angry tiger might have glared, and the veins stood out in uneven knots on his forehead, and his clenched fists quivered in the struggle for self-control. At first he could not speak for rage, but presently he swallowed spasmodically twice, and then broke forth.