"Three kings--no, by George! only a pair. I thought a queen was
a king. My head's beginning to get shaky. Colonel, I believe I
am getting drunk."
"I am sure of it."
Maurice got up and rolled in an extraordinary fashion, but he
was careful not to overdo it. He began to sing. The Colonel got
up, too, and he was laughing. Maurice accidentally knocked over
some empty bottles; he kicked them about.
"Sh!" cried the Colonel, coming around the table; "you'll
stampede the horses."
Maurice staggered toward him, and the Colonel caught him in his
arms. Maurice suddenly drew back, and the Colonel found himself
looking into the cavernous tube of his own revolver. Not a
muscle in his face moved.
"Take off your coat," said Maurice, quietly.
The Colonel complied. "You are not so very drunk just now."
"No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you
haven't them when you have."
"What next?" asked the Colonel.
"Those cords in the corner."
The Colonel picked them up, sat down and gravely tied one around
his ankles. Maurice watched him curiously. The old fellow was
rather agreeable, he thought.
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