I readily assented to this view of the case.

"And so assuming that Green is a gambler," said I, "he has grown
richer, in consequence of the opening of a new and more attractive
tavern in Cedarville."

"Yes, and Cedarville is so much the poorer for all his gains; for
I've never heard of his buying a foot of ground, or in any way
encouraging productive industry. He's only a blood-sucker."

"It is worse than the mere abstraction of money," I remarked; "he
corrupts his victims, at the same time that he robs them."

"True."

"Willy Hammond may not be his only victim," I suggested.

"Nor is he, in my opinion. I've been coming to this bar, nightly,
for a good many years--a sorry confession for a man to make, I
must own," he added, with a slight tinge of shame; "but so it is.
Well, as I was saying, I've been coming to this bar, nightly, for
a good many years, and I generally see all that is going on around
me. Among the regular visitors are at least half a dozen young
men, belonging to our best families--who have been raised with
care, and well educated. That their presence here is unknown to
their friends, I am quite certain--or, at least, unknown and
unsuspected by some of them. They do not drink a great deal yet;
but all try a glass or two. Toward nine o'clock, often at an
earlier hour, you will see one and another of them go quietly out