ring the "lucky ring." As he caught Dirke's eye he drew the
ring from his finger.

"What will you place against that?" he asked, handing it over to the
boss. His English was careful and correct, yet as Gallic as his face
itself.

Dirke examined the ring judicially, wondering, the while, that it did
not burn his fingers. The moment in which he last held it thus was far
more vivid to his consciousness than the present instant and the present
scene.

"Twenty-five dollars," he said, in his most official tone, as he
returned the ring to its owner.

The wheel spun, the ring glittered on the red. The count leaned slightly
forward. Dirke watched only the wheel. He had a wild notion that the
result was life or death to him, yet why, he could not tell. Then the
wheel slackened, the ball hesitated, paused, dropped. Black had won!

M. de Lys turned on his heel and left the table. An hour later the room
was empty and the lights were out.

When Dirke passed through the office of the _Mountain Lion_ and stepped
out on the veranda, the night was far spent, but the deep June sky was
still spangled with stars. He stood for an instant at the top of the
steps, hardly aware of the delicious wash of the night air on his face,
which yet he paused to enjoy. There was a foot-fall close at hand and a
voice.

"M. le croupier?" the voice queried.

He turned sharp about. The Frenchman stood there with his hat raised, a
gentleman to the finger-tips. Involuntarily Dirke lifted his own hat,
and lifted it after the manner of a gentleman. The manner was not lost
upon the Frenchman.

"Monsieur," said the latter, courteously; "I had the misfortune to lose
a ring this evening. I shall redeem it on the morrow, when I can command
my resources."

The "boss" looked him full in the face. They could not distinguish one
another's features in the starlight, yet the two personalities were as
plainly in evidence as could have been the case in the broad light of
day.

"No, you won't!" Dirke retorted, coolly, planting his hat firmly on his
head again. He was angry with himself for having removed it.

"May I ask Monsieur why not?"

"Because the ring is sold!"

The Frenchman started visibly.

"And the purchaser? Would you have the courtesy to indicate to me the
purchaser?"

"No!"

The rudely spoken monosyllable put an abrupt period to the conversation.

Dirke passed down the steps and along the deserted street. As he paced
the length of the boa