haracter in which are combined iron
self-restraint, rabbit-like timidity, and great shrewdness, who make
often a not inconsiderable income by gambling in stocks. They buy only
when the market is advancing strongly; they sell as soon as they have
gained the scantest margin of profit. They never permit themselves to
be tempted by the most absolute certainty of larger gains. They will
let weeks, months even, go by without once risking a dollar. They wait
until they simply cannot lose. Tens of thousands every year try to
join this class. All but the few soon succumb to the hourly dazzling
temptations the big gamblers dangle before the eyes of the little
gamblers to lure them within reach of the merciless shears.

Presbury had for many years added from one to ten thousand a year to
his income by this form of gambling, success at which is in itself
sufficient to stamp a man as infinitely little of soul. On that Monday
he, venturing for the first time in six months, returned to Hanging
Rock on the three-thirty train the richer by two hundred and fifty
dollars--as large a "killing" as he had ever made in any single day,
one large enough to elevate him to the rank of prince among the
"sure-thing snides." He said nothing about his luck to his family, but
let them attribute his unprecedented good humor to the news he brought
and announced at dinner.

"I met an old friend in the street this afternoon," said he. "He has
invited us to take Thanksgiving dinner with him. And I think it will
be a dinner worth while--the food, I mean, and the wine. Not the
guests; for there won't be any guests but us. General Siddall is a
stranger in New York."

"There are Siddalls in New York," said his wife; "very nice, refined
people--going in the best society."

Presbury showed his false teeth in a genial smile; for the
old-fashioned or plate kind of false teeth they were extraordinarily
good--when exactly in place. "But not my old friend Bill Siddall,"
said he. "He's next door to an outlaw. I'd not have accepted his
invitation if he had been asking us to dine in public. But this is to
be at his own house--his new house--and a very grand house it is,
judging by the photos he showed me. A regular palace! He'll not be an
outlaw long, I guess. But we must wait and see how he comes out
socially before we commit ourselves."

"Did you accept for me, too?" asked Mrs. Presbury.

"Certainly," said Presbury. "And for your daughter, too.