"That's right. But you look like a man who could stop when he'd had
enough. Try that. You're man enough--and come and see me whenever we're
in the same place."

He went to the hotel. There were several hours for Lin to wait. He walked
up and down the platform till the stars came out and the bright lights of
the town shone in 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