excuse for neglecting him.
He was always in a shilling sweep, a sixpenny raffle, a hundred to one
double on the Cup. He marked pak-a-pu tickets, took the kip at two-up,
and staked his last shilling more readily than the first. It was
always the last shilling that was going to turn the scale and make his
fortune. Well, he would try his luck again unknown to Pinkey, arguing
with the blind obstinacy of the gambler that after his abstinence fate
would class him as a beginner, the novice who wins a sweep with the
first ticket he buys, or backs the winner at a hundred to one because
he fancies its name.

Chook and Pinkey had been inseparable since their marriage, and he
spent a week trying to think of some excuse for going out alone at
night. But Pinkey, noticing his gloomy looks, decided that he needed
livening up, and ordered him to spend a shilling on the theatre.
Instantly Chook declined to go alone, and Pinkey fell into the trap.
She had meant to go with him at the last moment, but now she declared
that the night air made her cough. Chook could tell her all about the
play when he came home. This in itself was a good omen, and when two
black cats crossed his path on the way to the tram, it confirmed his
belief that his luck was in.

When Chook reached Castlereagh Street, he hesitated. It was market-day
on Thursday, and the two sovereigns in his pocket stood for his banking
account. They would last for twenty minutes, if his luck were out, and
he would never forgive himself. But at that moment a black cat crossed
the footpath rapidly in front of him, and his courage revived. That
made the third tonight. Men were slipping in at the door of the
school, which was guarded by a sentinel. Chook, being unknown, waited
till he saw an acquaintance, and was then passed in. The play had not
begun, and his long absence from the alley gave his surroundings an air
of novelty.

The large room, furnished like a barn, gave no sign of its character,
except for the ring, marked by a huge circular seat, the inner circle
padded and covered with canvas to deaden the noise of falling coins.
Above the ring the roof rose into a dome where the players pitched the
coins. The gaffers, a motley crowd, were sitting or standing about,
playing cards or throwing deck quoits to kill time till the play began.
The money-changer, his pockets bulging with silver, came up, and Chook
turned his sovereigns into half-crowns. Chook looked with cur