It was a dull evening.
Orde wandered about with the rest, a wide, good-natured smile on his
face.
"Start your little ball to rolling for that," he instructed the
roulette man, tossing down a bill. "Dropped again!" he lamented
humorously. "Can't seem to have any luck."
He drifted on to the crap game.
"Throw us the little bones, pardner," he said. "I'll go you a five
on it."
He lost here, and so found himself at the table presided over by the
three-card monte men. The rest of his party, who had according to
instructions scattered about the place, now began quietly to
gravitate in his direction.
"What kind of a lay-out is this?" inquired Orde.
The dealer held up the three cards face out.
"What kind of an eye have you got, bub?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know. A pretty fair eye. Why?"
"Do you think you could pick out the jack when I throw them out like
this?" asked the dealer.
"Sure! She's that one."
"Well," exclaimed the gambler with a pretence of disgust, "damn if
you didn't! I bet you five dollars you can't do it again."
"Take you!" replied Orde. "Put up your five."
Again Orde was permitted to pick the jack.
"You've got the best eye that's been in this place since I got
here," claimed the dealer admiringly.
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