it--you'll have to be sharper than that,
if you want to be waiter in a hotel, my Sweet William."

"You're all very small potatoes in this room, you're no class--you're
not in it with wall-eyed blokes. Here's yer drinks."

He went round the table, and carefully placed each individual's glass at
his elbow; and the game continued.

The pool fell to Carnac, and all Tresco's money was gone.

"Here's luck," said the Prospector, lifting his glass to Dolphin; and
when he had drunk he put his stake in the middle of the table.

Carnac rattled the dice-box. "Hello!" he said. "Kitty is short by five
pounds. Who's the defaulter?"

"Me, I'm afraid, gentlemen," said Tresco. "I'm cleaned out. 'Case of
stone-broke."

"What's this?" exclaimed the digger. "You ain't got a stiver left? Well,
there ain't nothing mean about me--here y'are." He roughly divided his
money, and pushed one-half across the table to Tresco.

"Hear, hear!" cried Carnac, clapping his hands.

"'Ere, 'ere!" echoed Sweet William. "Very 'an'some, most magnanimous."

Benjamin reached out his hand for the money, and in so doing overturned
his glass, which broke into shivers on the floor.

"Good liquor spilt," he remarked as he counted the money and drew
another IOU for the amount loaned, which was sixty-seven pounds.

The play proceeded. "Here's to you," said Dolphin, as he drank to
Tresco. "Better luck--you deserve it."

The digger was filled with the gambler's fever. His eyes were wild, his
face was hot; he drained his glass at a draught, and drummed the table
with his fingers.

"Neck or nothin', Tresco," he said. "Make it ten pound a corner, and
let's blanky well bust or win. Win, I say--double the stakes, and see if
that'll change our luck."

"Anything to oblige you, gentlemen," said Carnac. "Let it be ten pounds,
and you can withdraw as soon as you win your money back. It's a free
country: you can have one throw, two, or any number you please. But
don't say you were coerced, if you lose."

Tresco answered by putting his ten pounds in the pool.

The situation seemed to amuse Young William. He stood behind the
goldsmith's chair, holding his sides to suppress his laughter, and
making pantomimic signs to Garstang, who looked on with stolid composure
and an evil smile.

The players made their throws, and Carnac won the pool.

"Never mind," cried the Prospector, with strong expletives. "There's my
stake--let me have another shy. Game to the finish."