There was a moment of stunned and breathless silence as the young gamesters stared at the fifth ace thus exposed to view—the ace of spades. This silence was broken by Hooker, who, glaring at Shultz, suddenly snarled:

“You sneaking, cheating robber!”

With that cry, he leaped up, overturning his chair, and made a grab for Shultz’s throat. The latter had likewise risen, and with a sweep of his arm he brushed aside Hooker’s clawlike hand, at the same time driving his fist hard and straight at Roy’s face.

The blow landed with a sickening smack, and Hooker was hurled backward by the force of it, tripping over his upset chair. Both his arms were flung wide in an effort to save himself. His head struck with a thud against the marble mantelpiece, the shock being sufficient to knock one or two bits of bric-a-brac to the floor. Beneath one end of the mantel he collapsed in a heap, with his shoulders against the wall, his head dropping limply over on one of them.

Springer, having failed to seize Shultz in time to check that blow, now grabbed him with both hands and clung fast, panting in his ear:

“For the lul-lul-love of goodness, what have you dud-done?”

With a hissing sound, Shultz drew his breath through his clenched teeth, exposed by his parted lips. His nostrils were dilated, and the rage of an aroused animal blazed in his eyes.

“A fight here!” fluttered Cooper. “Don’t start a fight here!”

“Start one!” said Shultz hoarsely. “I didn’t. He started it. He called me a cheat and a robber. I’ll teach him to apply such words to me!”

“Keep Charley away,” commanded Osgood, quickly kneeling beside the silent figure of the boy who had been struck down. “This is very bad business. Come, Hooker, brace up.” But when he sought to arouse the stricken youth, Hooker’s body simply slid over sidewise with a little scraping sound against the wall, one arm rolling lifelessly across his breast to allow his knuckles to drop with a faint, soft knock upon the thick carpet.

“For the love of goodness!” repeated Springer in a horrified voice. “He lul-looks like a dud-dead one!”

Fiercely Shultz jerked away from Phil’s restraining hands. “You don’t have to hold me,” he rasped. “What do you think I’d do, hit him again when he’s down?”

Betraying the alarm he could not repress, Osgood made one more effort to arouse the limp fellow on the floor. Then he spoke swiftly, excitedly to the others.

“Somebody bring some water from the bathroom,” he directed. “Roy’s stunned. I’ll loosen up his collar so he can breathe. Help me place him on his back. Bring the water quick!”

Trembling and sick at heart, Piper found his way to the bathroom, drew a glass of water from the lavatory faucet, and hurried back with it.

Osgood and Springer were kneeling on either side of the prostrate lad, while Cooper, pale and agitated, stood looking on as if he could not bring himself to offer assistance or did not know what to do. Shultz, his jaws hard set, his breast heaving, stood at a little distance, watching.

“Give me the water, Piper,” requested Osgood, plainly trying to maintain as much calmness as possible. “Hand Phil a book or magazine or something to fan him with. Some one open a window and let some of this smoke out. Make as little noise as you can. Perhaps they didn’t hear him fall, and if we can bring him round all right, nobody must ever know what happened.”

Hooker’s tie had been removed and his collar and neckband unbuttoned. He lay quite still—horribly still, Piper thought. There was a bruise on his almost ghastly cheek where Shultz’s fist had struck. His eyes were closed, and the lids did not even seem to flutter. In his white shirt-sleeves, he seemed fearfully deathlike to the staring eyes of Billy Piper.

“Get that window open, I tell you!” ordered Osgood almost fiercely, as he began pouring water into the palm of his hand and bathing Hooker’s temples. “Fan him, Springer.”

“This is horrible!” Sleuth whispered to himself, as he opened a window. “I wish I’d never come here to-night.”

After a few minutes Shultz began to betray concern. “Isn’t he coming round?” he asked.

“If you’ve killed him,” said Piper bitterly, “you won’t be the only one to suffer for it. Nobody in this bunch ever will be able to hold his head up again in Oakdale.”

“Oh, he’ll come round all right. I didn’t even hit him on the jaw. I don’t see how he was knocked out so easy.”

“It was the bump he got against the mantel,” said Osgood, his dripping hand in Hooker’s hair. “Here’s the spot on his head. It’s swollen almost as big as a hen’s egg.”

“Perhaps—perhaps his skull is fractured,” muttered Piper.

“He brought it on himself,” asserted Shultz in self-defense. “I don’t know where that extra ace came from. I got all of mine honestly and squarely. He had no right to call me a cheat.”

“I sus-saw his eyelids move,” stammered Springer, still fanning. “He’s coming round! He’s breathing!”

“Yes, he’s coming round, thank fortune!” said Osgood in great relief. “He ought to be all right in a few minutes.”

Although these signs of reviving probably gave Shultz the most satisfaction, he now attempted to hide his feelings behind an air of sullen defiance and self-justification. Apparently, with the exception of Osgood, he was the calmest person in the room.

Presently Hooker’s breast heaved and he gave a heavy sigh. Then his eyes opened.

“You’re all right, old man,” said Osgood. “You got a fierce old bump when you fell, but you’ll be on your pins in a minute or two now.”

Hooker looked at him strangely without speaking. After a little time they lifted Roy and placed him on the big leather-covered Morris chair, following which they stood around and tried to get him to say that he was feeling better. He continued to stare at them, one after another, in that same puzzled, bewildered way, and all their efforts to draw a word from him were fruitless. Once his eyes rested on Shultz, but in their depths there was no gleam of light in the slightest way different from that aroused by sight of the others.

“He’s dazed,” whispered Sleuth. “His mind is befogged.”

“If we let him alone a few minutes he ought to come out of it,” said Osgood. “Let’s settle up. We can’t play any more to-night.”

“I’d like to know where that fuf-fifth ace came from,” said Springer, as he turned all the aces over and looked at the backs of the cards. “They’re alike, every one of ’em.”

“I had two packs alike,” explained Osgood. “The extra ace must have gotten into this pack by accident.”

“If we’ve been playing with it all the time,” ventured Cooper timidly, “it’s mighty funny we didn’t discover it before.”

“I’d like to know what you mean by that,” growled Shultz, glaring at Chipper in a manner that made the little fellow draw back a bit. “I hope you don’t insinuate——”

“I’m not insinuating anything,” was the hasty disclaimer. “I just said it was funny, that’s all.”

“Fuf-funny is hardly the word,” muttered Springer.

“I’m sure,” said Osgood quickly, “that no one in this crowd would play a dishonest game. The cards got mixed, and I made up that pack myself. If anybody is to blame, I am. Count up your chips, fellows, and let’s square things right away.”

They did as directed, and he settled up with each of them, turning last to Hooker, who was behind the game. Counting the few chips left to the unfortunate gamester, Osgood announced how many there were and offered their value in change to Roy, who, however, made no attempt to accept the coins.

“This is what’s coming to you, Roy,” said Ned. “Take it.”

Hooker looked at him blankly. In Cooper’s ear Piper whispered:

“He don’t understand. What if he never comes out of it?”

“He will; he must,” Chipper whispered back.

Ned slid the coins into Roy’s pocket. “Now,” he said, “I think this party had better break up. Somebody will have to see Hooker home, and I think the outside air will revive him. This affair must be kept strictly private. If any one breathes a word about it, he will brand himself as a—— Oh, but I know there’s no need of saying such a thing, and I won’t say it.”

“You don’t have to so far as I’m concerned,” asserted Piper promptly. “Any one here would be a chump to tattle.”

As Billy was the only one Osgood had feared, Ned immediately showed his relief and satisfaction.

Hooker, still sitting supinely on the Morris chair, permitted them to readjust his collar and tie. When they lifted him to his feet he stood still while they actually pushed his arms into his heavy, reefer-like coat.

“There you are,” said Osgood, slapping him on the back. “We’re all mighty sorry it happened, Roy, but it was a mistake. As I provided the cards, I must shoulder the blame, if any one. You’ve been a game loser, old chap. Do you need some money? I’ll lend you what you want.”

“Queer,” whispered Piper. “He doesn’t seem to understand a word.”

“I’m going,” said Shultz suddenly. He removed from the doorknob his cap, which had been hanging there, and turned the key in the lock. As if he realized that something more was expected of him, he stopped and forced himself to turn until he could look back at them, though it was plainly with a great struggle that he did so. “Perhaps some of you fellows blame me,” he flung at them. “If you do, just try to put yourselves in my place. Just try to think of yourselves as holding four aces, getting them squarely and fairly, and then being called a cheat and a robber. Perhaps I wouldn’t have hit him if he hadn’t tried to choke me.”

“You’re sorry it happened, aren’t you, Charley?” said Osgood.

“I’m sorry—for your sake, anyhow; but I had to defend myself. Any other fellow would have done the same. Good night.”

“Go out quietly,” cautioned Ned, as Shultz was disappearing.

A few moments later they heard the departing fellow’s footsteps coming up from the sidewalk.

“I’ll let the rest of you out myself,” said the host. “Don’t talk as we go downstairs, and step quietly. Come on, Hooker.”

He took Roy’s arm, and, like guilty creatures, they stole out of the room and tiptoed down the stairs. It was necessary for Osgood to caution Hooker about descending in the dim light of the hall lamp. At the outer door Ned made them wait while he took a look into the street.

“Nobody in sight,” he announced in a low voice. “It’s a good time to get away, fellows. Good night.”

With muttered good nights they left the house and descended the steps, Springer having taken Hooker’s arm. The air was damp and raw, and Piper’s teeth chattered a little.

“Too bad our little pup-party busted up that way,” muttered Phil; “but we were lucky to gug-gug-get out without anybody getting wise. Osgood’s a fine chap, but if people knew about our playing in his rooms and this scrap to-night, they’d think him a regular pirate. Every old gossip in town would gug-gabble.”

“What worries me most,” ventured Cooper, “is about Hooker. Don’t you feel all right now, Roy?”

“Perhaps he doesn’t want to speak,” whispered Piper. “S’pose he can get home all right?”

“Somebody had bub-better go with him,” said Springer. “It’s out of my way, but it’s on your road, Cooper. He’s all right, only he doesn’t talk. You see that he gets home, will you?”

“Yes, you see that he gets home, Chipper,” urged Sleuth quickly. “I’ll be late now. If the folks are still up, I’ll have to make excuses. Good night, fellows.” Turning into a side street, he set off at a run.