placing before P. Sybarite a tremendous accumulation of bills, old and
new, of all denominations, loose and in packages, together with some
ten or twelve golden double-eagles.

"I believe you will find that correct," he observed genially.
"Afterwards, I trust you will do me the honour of splitting a bottle
with me in the lounge."

"Delighted," said P. Sybarite.

Penfield strolled off, exchanged a few words with an acquaintance or
two, and a few more with his employees, and went downstairs. The
remaining handful of patrons disappeared gradually, yet so quickly
that P. Sybarite was a lonely outsider by the time he had finished
counting his winnings and stowing them away about his person.

Presenting the croupier with five hundred dollars, he recovered his
hat (at last) and descended, to find Penfield awaiting him at the foot
of the steps.




X

UNDER FIRE


Bloated though he was with lawless wealth and fat with insufferable
self-satisfaction, P. Sybarite, trotting by the side of his host, was