CHAPTER VIII.
FOILED BY A WOMAN.
It was their last night in town before breaking up camp, and the Black Hillers, as they already called themselves, under Chichester, were determined to have a lively time of it.
They commenced "wetting up," or pouring down liquid lightning in camp, but, being reminded that what they used there would be missed on their journey, they started to skin the saloons in town, and finish out their spree where it would not diminish their own stores.
As Wild Bill said, they were going where money would be of little account, if all the stories about the gold to be found were true; so what they spent now they wouldn't have to carry. And they went in, as such reckless men generally do, spending their money as freely as they could, and drinking with a "looseness" that promised headaches on the morrow, if nothing more.
Wild Bill went in on the spree with a rush, as if he wished to drown the remembrance of his late fright, and despite the cautions of his friend, Captain Jack, who strove hard to keep him within bounds.
California Joe of course was in his element, and in a little while all the party became so turbulent that Crawford left them in disgust. For, as Addie Neidic had said of him, despite his associations, he was a gentleman.
By midnight every saloon had been visited, and many of them pretty well cleaned out, and now Bill proposed to go and break a faro bank that some of the party spoke of.
"I have seven hundred dollars left out of a thousand my woman gave me before I started," said he. "I'll lose that, or break the bank; see if I don't."
All of the party who were sober enough went with Bill, and soon he was before the green board.
Without even waiting to get the run of the game, be planked a hundred dollars on the king, and lost. Without a word, he put two hundred dollars more on the same card, and won. He left the four hundred down, and in another turn he had eight hundred.
"Luck is with me, boys!" He shouted. "I'll break the bank! Let her swing for the king once more, Mr. Dealer!"
To the wonder of all, though it was the last turn of the cards, the king won, and Wild Bill picked up sixteen hundred dollars.
His friends now urged him to quit, but the demon of the game had entered his soul, and he swore, with a terrible oath, that he would play till he broke the bank, or was broke himself.
A new pack was now put in the box, and once more the dealer cried out:
"Make your bets gentlemen–make year bets! The game is ready!"
Bill, with a reckless bravado, as much of rum as of his own nature, again laid all his winnings on one card–this time the queen. And with wonderful luck–it could be nothing else–he again doubled his pile, this time his gains being thirty-two hundred dollars.
"Stop now, Bill!" cried California Joe, "This can't last!"
"It shall last! The bank can't stand more than two more such pulls!" shouted Bill, wildly.
And again on the same card he staked his entire winnings.
The dealer and banker were one; he turned pale, but when all bets were down, he pulled his cards without a tremor in his hand. But a groan broke from his lips as the queen once more came out on the winning side.
Once more Bill's stakes were doubled, and this time he changed his card.
The banker hesitated. His capital would hardly cover the pile if Bill won again.
"Keep on," whispered a voice in his ear; "if he breaks you, I'll stake your bank."
The banker looked up and saw, though she was disguised in male attire, a face he well knew. It was that of Addie Neidic, and he knew she was able to keep her word.
Wild Bill had heard the whisper, and his face was white with rage, for he thought the bank would succumb before it would risk another chance with his wonderful luck.
But he let his money lay where he put it, and cried out to the banker to go on with his game if he dared.
The latter; with firm set lips, cried out:
"Game ready, gentlemen–game ready."
The cards were drawn, and once more Wild Bill had won.
Coolly, as if money was no more than waste paper, Bill gathered up the pile, and began to thrust it away in his pockets, when the disguised woman, Addie Neidic, thrust a roll of thousand dollar notes into the hands of the banker, and cried out:
"This bank is good for fifty thousand dollars. Let no braggart go away and say he has bluffed the bank, till he breaks it!"
Wild Bill trembled from head to foot.
"I know you!" he hissed. "You are the woman who bluffed me at the livery-stable. I'll win your fifty thousand dollars, and then blow the top of any man's head off who'll take your part!"
"Play, don't boast; put up your money!" was the scornful reply.
In an instant Bill put every dollar he had won, every cent he had in the world, and a gold watch on top of that, on the Jack.
Not another man around the table made a bet. A pin could have been heard, had it fallen to the floor, so complete was the silence.
The banker cried out, "Game ready," and slowly drew the cards.
"Jack loses!" he cried, a second after, and Bill's pile, watch and all, was raked in.
"Devil! woman or not, you shall die for this!" he shouted, and his hand went to his belt.
But even as his hand touched his pistol, he heard that fearful whisper, "sister," and saw a white face, wreathed in auburn hair rise over Addie Neidic's shoulder, and with a groan, or a groaning cry of terror, he fell back insensible to the floor.