At last, after long hours and days spent at watching the table, the
night came when Smoke proclaimed he was ready, and Shorty, glum and
pessimistic, with all the seeming of one attending a funeral,
accompanied his partner to the Elkhorn. Smoke bought a stack of chips
and stationed himself at the game-keeper's end of the table. Again and
again the ball was whirled and the other players won or lost, but Smoke
did not venture a chip. Shorty waxed impatient.
"Buck in, buck in," he urged. "Let's get this funeral over. What's
the matter? Got cold feet?"
Smoke shook his head and waited. A dozen plays went by, and then,
suddenly, he placed ten one-dollar chips on '26.' The number won, and
the keeper paid Smoke three hundred and fifty dollars. A dozen plays
went by, twenty plays, and thirty, when Smoke placed ten dollars on
'32.' Again he received three hundred and fifty dollars.
"It's a hunch." Shorty whispered vociferously in his ear. "Ride it!
Ride it!"
Half an hour went by, during which Smoke was inactive, then he placed
ten dollars on '34' and won.
"A hunch!" Shorty whispered.
"Nothing of the sort," Smoke whispered back. "It's the system. Isn't
she a dandy?"
"You can't tell me," Shorty contended. "Hunches comes in mighty funny
ways. You might think it's a system, but it ain't. Systems is
impossible. They can't happen. It's a sure hunch you're playin'."
Smoke now altered his play. He bet more frequently, with single chips,
scattered here and there, and he lost more often than he won.
"Quit it," Shorty advised. "Cash in. You've rung the bull's eye three
times, an' you're ahead a thousand. You can't keep it up."
At this moment the ball started whirling, and Smoke dropped ten chips
on '26.' The ball fell into the slot of '26,' and the keeper again
paid him three hundred and fifty dollars. "If you're plum crazy an'
got the immortal cinch, bet'm the limit," Shorty said. "Put down
twenty-five next time."
A quarter of an hour passed, during which Smoke won and lost on small
scattering bets. Then, with the abruptness that characterized his big
betting, he placed twenty-five dollars on the 'double nought,' and the
keeper paid him eight hundred and seventy-five dollars.
"Wake me up, Smoke, I'm dreamin'," Shorty moaned.
Smoke smiled, consulted his note-book, and became absorbed in
calculation. He continually drew the note-book from his pocket, and
from time to time jotted down figures.
A crowd had packed densely around the table, while the players
themselves were attempting to cover the same numbers he covered. It
was then that a change came over his play. Ten times in succession he
placed ten dollars on '18' and lost. At this stage he was deserted by
the hardiest. He changed his number and won another three hundred and
fifty dollars. Immediately the players were back with him, deserting
again after a series of losing bets.
"Quit it, Smoke, quit it," Shorty advised. "The longest string of
hunches is only so long, an' your string's finished. No more
bull's-eyes for you."
"I'm going to ring her once again before I cash in," Smoke answered.
For a few minutes, with varying luck, he played scattering chips over
the table, and then dropped twenty-five dollars on the 'double nought.'
"I'll take my slip now," he said to the dealer, as he won.
"Oh, you don't need to show it to me," Shorty said, as they walked to
the weigher. "I ben keepin' track. You're something like thirty-six
hundred to the good. How near am I?"
"Thirty-six-thirty," Smoke replied. "And now you've got to pack the
dust home. That was the agreement."