“Hard luck, Mr. Taylor?” asked the dealer.
“The worst I could possibly have,” said the young man, gnawing at his feverish lips. A few words of the commonplace sort ensued, and then the dealer, having adroitly brought it about, introduced the Englishmen. Presently Taylor and the two Georges were alone at a table, drinking, the former not having the slightest knowledge that the motive for seeking the introduction was an ulterior one. As innocent was the faro dealer.
“We were watching your play,” explained Chelsea after a little, “and although we don’t know much about the game, we concluded that your system was a good one if pushed to the limit. It’s new, isn’t it, Mr. Taylor?”
As a matter of fact, Taylor had played no so-called system, and at the moment was thinking of nothing but that he had lost upon plunging his all. Until then he had been winning. Like thousands of other fools who gamble, he believed his luck had come to stay until he could regain all he’d lost in other days. He placed his pile of winnings and his week’s salary on one card. In an instant he saw it all vanish.
“I haven’t any system,” he answered Chelsea, nervously pulling at his slim black mustache, “but one thing I know well--I’m cleaned out!”
“Pardon me, old chap!” Chelsea George said, placing his hand on Taylor’s shoulder in an affectionate manner, “but I was once in a fix like yours, and not so long ago either. I wasn’t sorry when a friend like Mr. Wales here came along.”
English George smiled benignly at this, and Chelsea continued: “He loaned me a few hundred, and they came just in season. Now if I could be of any service to you, I’d consider it in the light of a favor to me.”
If Chelsea expected Taylor would resent the offer of a loan, he had overestimated the man, at least in the case in hand; for all men in the mad rush eventually reach the rash limit of their financial means, and Taylor had run the gamut! He had to meet an obligation that night, and it was this fact that made him play for a high stake. Exposure, indeed, was close on his heels. If his creditors did as they threatened to do, he would soon be looking for another position. He saw in Chelsea’s loan a straw to which he might cling, consequently when two new one hundred dollar bills were thrust into his hand, it closed on them, though tremblingly. The fine sense of honor drilled into him at home by his stately Canadian father had given him a stab, for the moment. He knew he had accepted the money with scarcely a hope of returning it! But family pride went down before the crush of circumstances.