“Poker,” said the Colonel, “depends mostly on what you Americans call bluff. A bluff, as I understand it, is making the others think you have them when you haven't, or you haven't got them when you have. In one case you scare them, in the other you fish. You're getting flushed, my son; you'll have a headache to-night; and in an hour you start.”
An hour! There was fever in Maurice's veins, but it was not caused wholly by the heat of the wine. How should he manage it? He must have that revolver.
“Call? What have you got?” asked the Colonel.
“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.”
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.”
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.
“Now,” the Colonel inquired calmly, “how are you going to tie my hands? Can you hold the revolver in one hand and tie with the other?”
“Hang me!” exclaimed Maurice, finding himself brought to a halt.
“My son,” said the Colonel, “you are clever. In fact, you are one of those fellows who grow to be great. You never miss an opportunity, and more often than not you invent opportunities, which is better still. The truth is, you have proceeded exactly on the lines I thought you would; and thereby you have saved me the trouble of lying or having it out with Madame. I am a victim, not an accomplice; I was forced at the point of a revolver; I had nothing to say. If I had really been careless you would have accomplished the feat just the same. For it was easily accomplished you will admit. 'Tis true I knew you were acting because I expected you to act. All this preamble puzzles you.”