Billy was
thinking of, or what the picture suggested to him, did not transpire;
for Uncle Jim, who, emboldened by his holiday, was luxuriating in an
evening paper, suddenly uttered a long-drawn whistle, and moved closer
to his abstracted partner. "Look yer," he said, pointing to a paragraph
he had evidently just read, "just you listen to this, and see if we
ain't lucky, you and me, to be jest wot we air--trustin' to our own hard
work--and not thinkin' o' 'strikes' and 'fortins.' Jest unbutton yer
ears, Billy, while I reel off this yer thing I've jest struck in the
paper, and see what d--d fools some men kin make o' themselves. And that
theer reporter wot wrote it--must hev seed it reely!"

Uncle Jim cleared his throat, and holding the paper close to his eyes
read aloud slowly:--

"'A scene of excitement that recalled the palmy days of '49 was
witnessed last night at the Arcade Saloon. A stranger, who might have
belonged to that reckless epoch, and who bore every evidence of being
a successful Pike County miner out on a "spree," appeared at one of the
tables with a negro coachman bearing two heavy bags of gold. Selecting
a faro-bank as his base of operations, he began to bet heavily and with
apparent recklessness, until his play excited the breathless attention
of every one. In a few moments he had won a sum variously estimated at
from eighty to a hundred thousand dollars. A rumor went round the room
that it was a concerted attempt to "break the bank" rather than the
drunken freak of a Western miner, dazzled by some successful strike.
To this theory the man's careless and indifferent bearing towards his
extraordinary gains lent great credence. The attempt, if such it was,
however, was unsuccessful. After winning ten times in succession the
luck turned, and the unfortunate "bucker" was cleared out not only of
his gains, but of his original investment, which may be placed roughly
at twenty thousand dollars. This extraordinary play was witnessed by a
crowd of excited players, who were less impressed by even the magnitude
of the stakes than the perfect sang-froid and recklessness of the
player, who, it is said, at the close of the game tossed a twenty-dollar
gold-piece to the banker and smilingly withdrew. The man was not
recognized by any of the habitues of the place.'

"There!" said Uncle Jim, as he hurriedly slurred over the French
substantive at the close, "did ye ever see such God-forsaken
foolishness?"

Uncle Bill