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And when this was accomplished with the aid of a device known as a "hold-out" his moist, plump fingers clutched a full house jacks on kings. The betting went briskly to the bitter end. John Ringo scowled down on the hand which beat his; pushed back his chair, fumbled briefly at his vest, and laid his gold watch on the table. "Lend me a hundred," he growled. "She's worth a hundred and fifty."
"I saw him make the shift. The five cards that really belong in his hands will be found in the hold-out under the table!" There was dead silence. The Frenchman turned sallow. "It makes no difference," said the quiet voice of the detective, breaking the silence. "I have a higher straight flush of clubs here. Mine runs up to the eight spot, and so I win the pot."
How you like zat for a straight flush?" He lay his cards on the table, and he had the two, three, four, five and six of hearts. There was a shout of astonishment. "Ze pot ees mine!" exultantly cried the Frenchman. "Stop!" rang out Frank Merriwell's clear voice. "That pot is not yours!" Everyone looked at Merry. "He is using a table 'hold-out!" accused Frank, pointing straight at Montfort.
The cards were counted, and the pack proved to be four cards short. "Here is one of the gambler's appliances of which I spoke," said Frank, thrusting his hand under Leslie's side of the table and wrenching away something. "It is a table hold-out, and it contains the four missing cards. This is the kind of a fellow you are playing cards with, gentlemen."
Clemm," began the lady, but the manager waved her aside. "Nix, Madame. Get out. I'm busy. You know the terms, and I advise you not to try any more of this hold-out game. You're a week late now, and the next time you try it you'll be sorry. Hurry. I've got a lot of people to see." She left, wiping her eyes. The next man to enter was somewhat mutilated.
"You'll find his real hand in his sleeve, Red. No, not that one there's where he has the knife; the cards are in the left sleeve." "Did you really think I was that easy?" he said reproachfully to the discomfited gambler, as McVey laid the bowie and secreted cards on the table. "Why, you've even misjudged your own hold-out see!"
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