Someone must have loaded up on it, someone who had deliberately watched me, and his joy can be easily pictured.

So someone was greatly comforted, but not a hint ever came to me as to who the culprit was.
My intercourse with M---- provided some of the closest "calls" I ever had (a call means a position of danger); still not so close as on a certain occasion, at my summer camp in Arizona, when one of the men and myself were playing cards together.

We were alone.

The man was our best "hand," and a capital fellow, though a fugitive from justice, like some of the others.

It became apparent to me that he was cheating, and I was rash enough to let him understand that I knew it, without however absolutely accusing him of it.