p."

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 'em 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 naught," and the
keeper paid him eight hundred and seventy-five dollars.

"Wake me up, Smoke, I'm dreamin'," Shorty moaned.

Smoke smiled, consulted his notebook, and became absorbed in
calculation. He continually drew the notebook 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 naught."

"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 been keepin' track. You're something like thirty-six
hundred to the good. How near am I?"

"Thirty-six-sixty," Smoke replied. "And now you've got to pack the dust
home. That was the agreement."

"Don't crowd your luck," Shorty pleaded with Smoke, the next night, in
the cabin, as he evidenced preparations to return to the Elkhorn. "You
played a mighty long string of hunches, but you played it out. If you go
back you'll sure drop all your winnings."

"But I tell you it isn't hunches, Shorty. It's statistics. It's a
system. It can't lose."

"System be damned. They ain't no such a thing as system. I made
seventeen straight passes at a crap table once. Was it system? Nope. It
was fool luck,