could not lose. Before he realized it, other men were betting with
him, animated purely by greed and craze of the sport. First one,
then another joined till game after game was closed, and each
moment the crowd had grown in size and enthusiasm so that its
fever crept into him, imperceptibly at first, but ever increasing,
till the mania mastered him.

He paid no attention to Cherry as he took his seat. He had eyes
for nothing but the "lay-out." She clenched her hands and prayed
for his ruin.

"What's your limit, Kid?" he inquired.

"One hundred, and two," the Kid answered, which in the vernacular
means that any sum up to $200 be laid on one card save only on the
last turn, when the amount is lessened by half.

Without more ado they commenced. The Kid handled his cards
smoothly, surely, paying and taking bets with machine-like calm.
The on-lookers ceased talking and prepared to watch, for now came
the crucial test of the evening. Faro is to other games as war is
to jackstraws.

For a time Glenister won steadily till there came a moment when
many stacks of chips lay on the deuce. Cherry saw the Kid "flash"
to the case-keeper, and the next moment he had "pulled two." The
deuce lost. It was his first substantial gain, and the players
paid no attention. At the end of half an hour the winnings were
slightly in favor of the "house." Then Glenister said, "This is
too slow. I want action."