The Argosy, September 1915 — page 219: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

.LUCK OF THE DEVIL. Suddenly tearing them away, he rose to his feet, and with trembling hands pushed all the chips he possessed onto the white. The onlookers gasped with awe, shuffled their feet, and craned their necks still closer. Then ensued a breathless pause. “The white!’ whispered Scotty excitedly. “Why, he'll break the house if he wins! ‘That’s ten to one, and he’s got at least seven thousand on it. But what chances he’s taking!” Nervously Faro balanced the little ball between his finger and thumb, gave the wheel a turn with his left hand, and with a swift motion of his right, spun the ball on its fateful way. The commotion aroused by such a bet had drawn all the players from the other tables. They were all keyed up to the same pitch; all had the same tense look in their eyes and the same twitch about the lips. Ben leaned forward over the table, his beard thrust out, his arms out- stretched, his long, skinny hands closed like two knots, and his eyes fastened on the ball, as if by sheer force of will he would make it stop on the desired bracket. The crowd gaped. The perspira- tion rolled down Faro’s pale face. One-Eyed Riley breathed thickly and _ grasped the arm of a man on each side of him with the clutch of one ready to sink for the last time, his large, fishy eyes fastened on the ball. Slower and slower went the wheel. Slower and slower twinkled the ball— slower—slower— “He wins!” some one shouted. But just as the ball was dropping into white the table was given a slight shake entirely unnoticed by the on- lookers in their excitement—even by Ben—and the ball dropped back into the black, the color preceding it. An unconscious hum of sympathy escaped from the throats of the crowd. Faro Dick wiped the per- spiration from his forehead. “You're out o’ luck, Ben!” shout- ed Scotty. 4A 433 * All hands drink,’ intimated One- Eyed Riley in an expressive tone of relief, as he led the crowd to the bar, himself almost choking, his face red and neck swollen. The throng surged forward unheed- ful of Ben, who had slipped back into his seat in utter collapse, his eyes wide and staring. It was but a moment he was overcome, however. Then he leaped to his feet, tore off his hat, threw back his head, and shrilled: “ By the hope that mine mother is in heaven, I schwear never to bet an- other cent as long as I live! So help mine God!”’ Those nearest him broke loud cuffaw. “ Ben’s quit the game for good,” laughed Faro Dick. Deigning them hardly a look, Ben picked up his hat and_ staggered through the back entrance into the moonlit silence of the night. His soul seemed to be in rags; the muscles of his face twitched; he muttered strange oaths to himself. A little beyond the camp he turned into a side-trail, and in a few minutes reached his cabin. Four husky dogs leaped out to greet him as he approached. At sight of them he stopped suddenly and muttered : “| could get me three hundred dol- lars for them, all right.” But remembering his vow, he beat his breast with his hands and again cried: “So help mine God!” and en- tered the cabin. Lighting a candle he went to a box in the corner and picked out four large, dried salmon, one of which he gave to each of the hungry dogs. Then he staggered to his bunk, drew the robe over himself, and simultane- ously fell into a deep sleep. It was after twelve o’clock the fol- lowing night. before he awoke and re- membered. Long he gazed into the darkness, murmuring to himself. Then he arose, kindled the fire, made and drank some coffee, piled all his grub into sacks, and lashed it to the big, into a EMO PMIELOOOL KS (E@)