Judge Elbridge

What was the use of quitting now that he had luck? He had waited for it a long time, and now that it had arrived he was going to throw it away. He might just as well win a hundred an

of the world. After a few hands he picked up a straight, seven high. He raised the opener, who promptly raised him in return, giving him the other barrel, as the saying went

t any?" Bodney

me call for a

odney, in faltering tones. A seven high

s," said the man in

spread his hand.

e scared, and if you'd have more money and

it offered no consolation to

try ten more. His luck was gone, but he expected every moment to see it return. He opened a pot on aces and tens. A fool stayed on deuces, caught his third, and slaughtered him. He bought ten more. His spirits were heavy and he sighed distressfully. It was not the loss of the money; it was the harassing sense of being beaten. He opened another pot on queens up. One of the regulars raised him. He began to reason. "He wou

e w

light," and he s

enty dollars. "You beat me every time," he said, to an offensive fellow who

hat I'm h

right. I'll

nd. And he saw it melt away-saw his last chip go in. He drew, having a show for the pot, and made jacks up. The opener had queens up. Heavy of heart, Bodney went down the stairs. He cursed himself for playing after dinner. "If I only had ten dollars I might win it all back," he mused. "They can't possibly beat me all the time. I played as good ca

ything?" Bo

ything?" Bo

fair. How is

ne, devilish good fellow, came in just now on

he druggist,

s a devilish good fellow, and I don't exactly know what to do. Every one I know ha

so, but I'm r

to you tomorro

ht stand in modesty's way. Bodney bounded up the stairs, afraid that the game might have broken up. Panting and tremulous, he pressed the electric button. A negro porter pulled aside a blue curtain, peeped through the glass and opened the door. The game had not broken up. Every seat was taken, the regulars, with chips stacked high befor

t pretty soon?" he asked

isappointment and injury Bodney resumed his walk. But pretty soon a man cashed in, and the young lawyer bought five dollars worth of chips, and took his seat. He won the first pot, the second and the third, but without stayers. Surely his luck had returned. Again he felt a current of pleasure flowing through his mind. He laughed at a stale joke. It had never sounded so well before. A man, the offensive fellow, now quite a gentleman, began to tell a story, and Bodney encouraged him with a smile. "I knew a man once, a preacher, by the way," said he, "who got into the habit of pl

y again?" B

keep ri

id he

coppers

s seat. He saw his last chip melt away and he got up, so heavy that he could hardly stand. The fellow who had told the story, and to whom Bodney had paid the tribute of most generous laughter, dealt the cards and skipped Bodney without even looking at him. But Bodney looked at him, and how offensive he was. "I'd like to cut his infamous throat," he mused. Down the stairs again he went, heavier and more desperate than before. It was now past midnight. "Now w

ay, you've seen me in here a

d to see you over a

ber, now. And

tki

member you now. How are y

rig

said Bodney. "And I guess you

"Well, that's

nd your business. Say, can you do me a favor? I need ten dolla

e shake of the head. "I have

'll bet he's a thief. Now what?" he added, halting on the corner. He looked up and down the street, and scanned the faces of the passers-by, hoping to recognize an acquaintance. Presently a

re out on Lake Genev

s closed up, and I need ten dolla

one, and got into a little game of poker and got busted. Ever over there? Now, there's a good game,

and he felt his heart bleeding. He fancied that he could hear the dripping of the blood. Then came upon him the resolve never to play another game of poker. It was a sure road to ruin, to despair. He would confess to Howard and the Judge. The car st

pe so," replie

reachers for the advanceme

a din

nner contributes

over-ind

ome money. Late this evening I received a note, telling me that a friend of mine, a divinity student, was exceedingly ill. I hastened to the number given and found him in a poverty-stricken room, lying upon a wretched bed, without a nurse, almost delirious with suffering. I knew that he was poor, that he had bent his energies to study to th

ou-at once. What is

ght not like to see a stranger. He begged m

game might have dissolved, merely to cheat him of victorious reprisal, but it was still in progress, with one vacant seat. This time he invested his entire amount. The feeling of security, inspired by a reserve fund, favored an over-confidence, he fancied; it was bette