She knew her limit of control.

Nor did he look.

The two new cards lay face down on the table where they had been dealt to him.
"Cards ?" Kearns asked of MacDonald.
"Got enough," was the reply.
"You can draw if you want to, you know," Kearns warned him.
"Nope; this'll do me." Kearns himself drew two cards, but did not look at them.
Still Harnish let his cards lie.
"I never bet in the teeth of a pat hand," he said slowly, looking at the saloon-keeper.

"You-all start her rolling, Mac." MacDonald counted his cards carefully, to make double sure it was not a foul hand, wrote a sum on a paper slip, and slid it into the pot, with the simple utterance:-- "Five thousand." Kearns, with every eye upon him, looked at his two-card draw, counted the other three to dispel any doubt of holding more than five cards, and wrote on a betting slip.
"I see you, Mac," he said, "and I raise her a little thousand just so as not to keep Daylight out." The concentrated gaze shifted to Daylight.

He likewise examined his draw and counted his five cards.
"I see that six thousand, and I raise her five thousand...just to try and keep you out, Jack." "And I raise you five thousand just to lend a hand at keeping Jack out," MacDonald said, in turn.
His voice was slightly husky and strained, and a nervous twitch in the corner of his mouth followed speech.
Kearns was pale, and those who looked on noted that his hand trembled as he wrote his slip.