"It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he
wins who plays first."
"Or he doesn't. Colonel, a game is won only when it is played'."
"That's true enough."
"Kings are a tolerable bother on earth," Maurice declared,
trying to ease his wrists by holding them higher against his
back.
"What do you know about them?"
"When I was in the army I often fell in with three or four of a
night."
"Eh?--kings?"
"Yes; but usually I was up against aces or straight flushes."
"Cards! Well, well; when you get down to the truth of the matter,
real kings differ but little from the kings in pasteboard;
right side up, or wrong side up, they serve the purpose of those
who play them. There's a poor, harmless devil back there," with
a nod toward Bleiberg. "He never injured a soul. Perhaps that's
it; had he been cruel, avaricious, sly, all of them would be
cringing at his feet. Devil take me--but I'm a soldier," he
broke off abruptly; "it's none of my business."
"Have you any titles?" Maurice asked presently.
"Titles?" The Colonel jerked around on his horse. "Why?"
"O," said Maurice carelessly, "I thought it not unlikely that
you might have a few lying around loose.
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