impostor! I have even fought against the human instinct that told
this fierce, foolish old man that I was an alien to his house, to
his blood; I have even felt him scan my face eagerly for some
reflection of his long-lost boy, for some realization of his dream;
and I have seen him turn away, cold, heartsick, and despairing.
What matters that I have been to him devoted, untiring, submissive,
ay, a better son to him than his own weak flesh and blood would
have been? He would to-morrow cast me forth to welcome the
outcast, Sandy Morton. Well, what matters? (Recklessly.)
Nothing. In six days it will be over; in six days the year of my
probation will have passed; in six days I will disclose to him the
deceit I have practised, and will face the world again as John
Oakhurst, the gambler, who staked and lost ALL on a single cast.
And Jovita! Well, well!--the game is made: it is too late to draw
out now. (Rings bell. Enter JACKSON.) Who has been here?

Jackson. Only Don Jose, and Mr. Capper, the detective.

Oakhurst. The detective? What for?

Jackson. To work up the robbery, sir.

Oakhurst. True! Capper, Capper, yes! A man of wild and ridiculous
theories, but well-meaning, brave, and honest. (Aside.) This is
the old man's idea. He does not know that I was on the trail of
the thieves an hour before the police were notified. (Aloud.)
Well, sir?

Jackson. He told your father he thought the recovery of the money
hopeless, but he came to caution us against a second attempt.