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A rake of his neighbour's hand swept Abner's wager into his own pile.

The youth bent down and trembled in the fellow's ear, "Gimme change fer a ten!"

"Throw it down an' shoot it out!" whipped back the man, who had no time for making change.

Abner tossed his ten-dollar bill to the earth.

"Much you want to bet?"

"Fifty cents he falls off," snapped Abner.

The gambler tossed a half dollar on to the bill; at that moment the black shot a three and a four.

"Hell far, a nachel!" cried someone.

The man picked up his half and tapped the bill, which meant a half dollar in it was his.

This was a fantastic thing; a bill which a moment before had been Abner's now was only partly his. It had been nicked; there it still lay on the ground, but would melt away, or grow. . . . Abner could feel his heart beating tumultuously.

"Dollar he makes his next point!"

The man threw the half dollar on the bill.

The Negro with his endless crooning threw eleven. Another natural. The ten-dollar bill had cured itself and had brought Abner a fifty-cent piece besides.

The play went on and on. Abner's attention focussed on the shooting with cataleptic intensity. His money grew and shrank. Now it was a greenback, now a pile of silver and two or three small bills. The blood pounded in his temples. The Negro won and won.

Suddenly above the profanity some player cried, "Crooks!" Instantly there came a thudding of fists, oaths. Abner saw two men rolling and pounding each other in the firelight. A moment later the Negro was thrown bodily from the ring by half-a-dozen hands.

Abner was conscious merely of extreme exasperation that the play was stopped. He crouched with his hands over his money, waiting for the game to be resumed. When the