the saloon windows. Over across the way
piano-music sounded through one of the many open doors.

"Wonder if the professor's there yet?" said Lin, and he went across the
railroad tracks. The bartender nodded to him as he passed through into
the back room. In that place were many tables, and the flat clicking and
rattle of ivory counters sounded pleasantly through the music. Lin
did not join the stud-poker game. He stood over a table at which sat a
dealer and a player, very silent, opposite each other, and whereon were
painted sundry cards, numerals, and the colors red and black in squares.
The legend "Jacks pay" was also clearly painted. The player placed chips
on whichever insignia of fortune he chose, and the dealer slid cards
(quite fairly) from the top of a pack that lay held within a skeleton
case made with some clamped bands of tin. Sometimes the player's pile of
chips rose high, and sometimes his sumptuous pillar of gold pieces was
lessened by one. It was very interesting and pretty to see; Lin had
much better have joined the game of stud-poker. Presently the eye of
the dealer met the eye of the player. After that slight incident the
player's chip pile began to rise, and rose steadily, till the dealer
made admiring comments on such a run of luck. Then the player stopped,
cashed in, and said good-night, having nearly doubled the number of his
gold pieces.

"Five dollars' worth," said Lin, sitting down in the vacant seat. The
chips were counted out to him. He played with unimportant shiftings
of fortune until a short while before his train was due, and then,
singularly enough, he discovered he was one hundred and fifty dollars
behind the game.

"I guess I'll leave the train go without me," said Lin, buying five
dollars' worth more of ivory counters. So that train came and went,
removing eastward Mr. McLean's trunk.

During the hour that followed his voice grew dogged and his remarks
briefer, as he continually purchased more chips from the now surprised
and sympathetic dealer. It was really wonderful how steadily Lin
lost--just as steadily as his predecessor had won after that meeting of
eyes early in the evening.

When Lin was three hundred dollars out, his voice began to clear of its
huskiness and a slight humor revolved and sparkled in his eye. When his
seven hundred dollars had gone to safer hands and he had nothing left at
all but some silver fractions of a dollar, his robust cheerfulness was
all back agai