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Updated: May 23, 2025
It is my firm conviction that we are now, on this pleasant afternoon, double-crossed in a good and workmanlike manner. "The Johnson-Mitchell firm is now Johnson, Mitchell & Company, our late friends, or the survivors, being the Company." These remarks were addressed to the elder of Mr. Dewing's two table mates. But it was Eric Anderson, tall and lean and lowering, who made answer.
At length, on Dewing's deal, Johnson picked up three kings before the draw. He sat at Dewing's left; it was his first chance to open the pot; he passed. Dewing coughed; Johnson felt again that current of cold air on his neck. "This must be the big mitt," thought Pete. "In a square game there'd be nothing unusual in passing up three kings for a raise that is good poker.
The experiments in reviving old technical methods have been undertaken for the sake of purity and luminosity of color and have largely succeeded. The pictures of Mr. Tarbell are far more colored than those of the European painter whose work is, in some ways, most analogous to his, M. Joseph Bail. Mr. Hassam's color is always sparkling and brilliant, Mr. Dewing's delicate and charming, Mr.
Dewing's eye rested dreamily upon the picture, much praised of connoisseurs, framed by his window the sharp encircling contours of Cobre Mountain; the wedge of tawny desert beyond Farewell Gap. Rousing himself from such contemplation, he broke a silence, sour and unduly prolonged. "Four o'clock, and all's ill! Johnson is not the man to be cheated out of a fortune without putting up a fight.
"That's more than I've got, but I'll see you as far as my chips hold out. Wish to Heaven I had a bushel!" Pete sized up his few chips beside Dewing's tall red stacks. "It's a shame to show this hand for such a pitiful little bit of money," he said in an aggrieved voice. "What you got?" Dewing made no move to turn over his cards.
The lumberman sized up to Pete's raise tentatively, but kept his hand on his stack of chips; he questioned Pete with his eyes, muttered, hesitated, and finally withdrew the stack of chips in his hands and threw up his cards with a curse, exposing a jack-high spade flush. Dewing's eyes were cold and hard. He saw Pete's raise and raised again, pushing in two stacks of reds.
Then they pushed on, to waste no brief coolness of the morning hours. Pete kept word and spirit of his promise to Dewing; not until day was broad in the sky did he tell Stanley of Dewing's disclosure, tidings that displeased Stanley not at all. It was a gay party on that bright desert morning, though the way led through a dismal country of giant cactus, cholla and mesquite.
Scotty done showed one." The lumberman raised. "What are you horning in for?" demanded Pete. "I've got you beat. It's Dewing's hide I'm after." Dewing looked at his cards and stayed. Pete saw the raise and re-raised.
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