eing outside and doing something.

On such occasions, his money went also. He knew of several poker rooms
down town. A few acquaintances he had in downtown resorts and about
the City Hall. It was a change to see them and exchange a few friendly
commonplaces.

He had once been accustomed to hold a pretty fair hand at poker. Many a
friendly game had netted him a hundred dollars or more at the time when
that sum was merely sauce to the dish of the game--not the all in all.
Now, he thought of playing.

"I might win a couple of hundred. I'm not out of practice."

It is but fair to say that this thought had occurred to him several
times before he acted upon it. The poker room which he first invaded was
over a saloon in West Street, near one of the ferries. He had been
there before. Several games were going. These he watched for a time and
noticed that the pots were quite large for the ante involved.

"Deal me a hand," he said at the beginning of a new shuffle. He pulled
up a chair and studied his cards. Those playing made that quiet study of
him which is so unapparent, and yet invariably so searching.

Poor fortune was with him at first. He received a mixed collection
without progression or pairs. The pot was opened.

"I pass," he said.

On the strength of this, he was content to lose his ante. The deals
did fairly by him in the long run, causing him to come away with a few
dollars to the good.

The next afternoon he was back again, seeking amusement and profit. This
time he followed up three of a kind to his doom. There was a better hand
across the table, held by a pugnacious Irish youth, who was a political
hanger-on of the Tammany district in which they were located. Hurstwood
was surprised at the persistence of this individual, whose bets came
with a sang-froid which, if a bluff, was excellent art. Hurstwood began
to doubt, but kept, or thought to keep, at least, the cool demeanour
with which, in olden times, he deceived those psychic students of the
gaming table, who seem to read thoughts and moods, rather than exterior
evidences, however subtle. He could not down the cowardly thought that
this man had something better and would stay to the end, drawing his
last dollar into the pot, should he choose to go so far. Still, he hoped
to win much--his hand was excellent. Why not raise it five more?

"I raise you three," said the youth.

"Make it five," said Hurstwood, pushing out his chips.

"Come again," said th