behind. Three hundred and fifty-seven miles separate this point from Omaha. The railroad followed, on its left bank, the capricious windings of the South Fork of Platte river. At nine o'clock they arrived at the important town of North Platte, built between the two arms of the main stream, which join each other around it, forming a single artery—a large tributary—whose waters mingle with those of the Missouri a little above Omaha.
The one hundred and first meridian was passed.
Mr. Fogg and his partner had resumed their play. Neither of them complained of the length of the route—not even the dummy. Mr. Fix had won a few guineas at first, which he was in a fair way to lose, but he was not less deeply interested than Mr. Fogg. During this morning chance singularly favored this gentleman. Trumps and honors were showered into his hands. At a certain moment, after having made a bold combination, he was about to play a spade, when behind the seat a voice was heard, saying, "I should play a diamond."
Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix raised their heads. Colonel Proctor was near them.
Stamp Proctor and Phileas Fogg recognized each other at once.
"Ah, it is you, Englishman," cried the colonel: "it's you who is going to play a spade."
"And who plays it," replied Phileas Fogg coldly, laying down a ten of that color.
"Well, it suits me to have it diamonds," replied Colonel Proctor, in an irritated voice.
And he made a motion as if to pick up the card played, adding, "You don't understand anything of this game."
"Perhaps I will be more skillful at another," said Phileas Fogg, rising.
"You have only to try it, son of John Bull!" replied the coarse fellow.
Aouda became pale. All the blood went to her heart. She seized Phileas Fogg's arm, and he gently repulsed her. Passepartout was ready to throw himself on, looking at his adversary with the most insulting air. But Fix had risen, and going to Colonel Proctor, said to him, "You forget that you have me to deal with; me whom you have not only insulted, but struck!"
