Durade sat there
like a wild beast bound. Hough stood erect over a huge golden pile
on the table. The others seemed stiff in their tracks.
"There's a fortune here," went on Hough, indicating the gold. "All I
had--all our gentlemen opponents had--all YOU had ... I have won it
all!"
Durade's eyes seemed glued to that dully glistening heap. He could
not even look up at the coldly passionate Hough.
"All! All!" echoed Durade.
Then Hough, like a striking hawk, bent toward the Spaniard. "Durade,
have you anything more to bet?"
Durade was the only man who moved. Slowly he arose, shaking in every
limb, and not till he became erect did he unrivet his eyes from that
yellow heap on the table.
"Senor--do you--mock me?" he gasped, hoarsely.
"I offer you my winnings--ALL--FOR THE GIRL YOU HAVE HERE!"
"You are crazy!" ejaculated the Spaniard.
"Certainly ... But hurry! Do you accept?"
"Senor, I would not sell that girl for all the gold of the Indies,"
replied Durade, instantly. No vacillation--no indecision in him
here. Hough's offer held no lure for this Spaniard who had committed
many crimes for gold.
"BUT YOU'LL GAMBLE HER!" asserted Hough, and now indeed his words
were mockery. In one splendid gesture he swept his winnings into the
middle of the table, and the gold gave out a ringing clash.
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