cards steadily against
Chalmers and Brigham--the cards were usually against Brigham. He was a
mere boy, with passionate aspirations to be considered a sport. He had
been going a rapid gait for a year. He had lost to Scarborough alone as
much as he had expected to spend on the year's education.

Toward ten o'clock there was a jack-pot with forty-three dollars in it
and Brigham was betting wildly, his hands and his voice trembling, his
lips shriveled. With a sudden gesture Chalmers caught the ends of the
table and jerked it back. There--in Brigham's lap--were two cards.

"I thought so!" exclaimed Chalmers. "You dirty little cheat! I've been
watching you."

The boy looked piteously at Chalmers' sneering face, at the faces of
the others. The tears rolled down his cheeks. "For God's sake, boys,"
he moaned, "don't be hard on me. I was desperate. I've lost
everything, and my father can't give me any more. He's a poor man, and
he and mother have been economizing and sacrificing to send me here.
And when I saw I was ruined--God knows, I didn't think what I was
doing." He buried his face in his hands. "Don't be hard on me," he
sobbed. "Any one of you might have done the same if he was in my fix."

"You sniveling cur," said Chalmers, high and virtuous, "how dare you
say such a thing! You forget you're among gentlemen----"

"None of that, Chalmers," interrupted Scarborough. "The boy's telling
the truth. And nobody knows it better than YOU." This with a
significant look into Chalmers' eyes. They shifted and he colored.

"I agree with Scarborough," said Wilton. "We oughtn't to have let the
boy into our games. We must never mention what has happened here this
evening."

"But we can't allow a card sharp to masquerade as a gentleman,"
objected Chalmers. "I confess, Scarborough, I don't understand how you
can be so easy-going in a matter of honor."

"You think I must have a fellow-feeling for dishonor, eh?" Scarborough
smiled satirically. "I suppose because I was sympathetic enough with
you to overlook the fact that you were shy on your share of our Chicago
trip."

"What do you mean?"

"The three hundred you borrowed of Pierson when you thought he was too
far gone to know what he was doing. My back was turned--but there was
the mirror."

Chalmers' sullen, red face confirmed Scarborough's charge.

"No," continued Scarborough, "we GENTLEMEN ought to be charitable
toward one another's DISCOVERED lapses."