Sanderson's draw had not assisted him.
"Same to the dealer," said Grief.

"What you got, Wrink ?" "Nothing," said Wrinkles, exhibiting it face upward on the table.
"Good-bye, Florinda." "Well, I've got two small pair," ventured Pennoyer hopefully.

"Beat 'em ?" "No good," said Sanderson.

"Two pair--aces up." "No good," said Hawker.

"Three sevens." "Beats me," said Grief.