elicate inflection and the pause before the
final word, Old Man Curry might have been inquiring about the last
moments of a departed friend. The Kid was looking at the ground, so
he missed the twinkle in the old man's eyes.

"He ran like an apple woman," was the sullen response. "Confound it,
old-timer, I can't pick 'em every time!"

"No, I reckon not," said the patriarch. "I--reckon--not." He lapsed
into silence.

"Aw, spit it out!" said the Kid after a time. "I'd rather hear you
say it than feel you thinking it!"

Old Man Curry smiled one of his rare smiles, and his big, wrinkled
hand fell lightly on the boy's shoulder.

"What I was thinking wasn't much, son," said he. "It was this: if you
can make total strangers open up and spend their substance for
something they only think is there, you ought to get rid of an awful
lot of shirts and socks and flummery--the things that folks can see.
If you can sell stuff that _ain't_, you surely can sell stuff that
_is_!"

"I'm sick of the whole business!" The words ripped out with a snarl.
"I used to like this game for the excitement in it--for the kick. I
used to like to see 'em run. Now I don't give a damn, so long as I
can get some coin together quick. And the more you need it the harder
it is to get! To-day I had four suckers down on different horses in
the same race, and a sleeper woke up on me. Four bets down and not a
bean!"

The twinkle had gone from the old man's eyes.

"Four hosses in one race, eh? Do you need the money that bad, son?"

For answer the Kid plunged his hand into his pocket and brought out a
five-dollar gold piece and a small collection of silver coins which
he spread upon his palm.

"There's the bank roll," said he, "and don't tell me that Solomon
pulled that line about a fool and his money!"

The old man calmly appraised the exhibit of precious metals before he
spoke.

"How come you to be down so low, son?"

"I was trying to win myself out a little stake," was the sulky
answer; "but they cleaned me. That's why I'm hustling so hard. It's a
rotten game, but it owes me something, and I want to collect it
before I quit!"

"Ah, hah!" said Old Man Curry, stroking his beard meditatively. "Ah,
hah! You haven't told her yet."

"No, but I'm going to. That's honest."

"I believe you, son, but did it ever strike you that mebbe she
wouldn't want you to make a fresh start on money that you got this
way? Mebbe she wouldn't want to start with you.