It was evident that a fortune already rested on that table, awaiting the flip of a card.

The silence, the breathless attention, convinced me that the crisis had been reached--it was the Judge's move; he must cover the last bet, or throw down his hand a loser.
Perspiration beaded his forehead, and he crunched the cards savagely in his hands.

His glance swept past the crowd, as though he saw nothing of their faces.
"Another drink, Sam," he called, the voice trembling.

He tossed down the glass of liquor as though it were so much water, but made no other effort to speak.

You could hear the strained breathing of the men.
"Well," said Kirby sneeringly, his cold gaze surveying his motionless opponent.