But it was as I feared: the gentleman whom I resented kept his place.

"Messieurs, la banque est faite. Quinze-mille francs a la
banque. Messieurs, les cartes passent. Messieurs, les cartes passent."

Turning to go, I encountered a friend, one of the race-weekers, but
in a sense a friend.

"Going to play?" I asked.

"Not while Jimmy Pethel's taking the bank," he answered, with a
laugh.

"Is that the man's name?"

"Yes. Don't you know him? I thought every one knew old Jimmy
Pethel."

I asked what there was so wonderful about "old Jimmy Pethel" that
every one should be supposed to know him.

"Oh, he's a great character. Has extraordinary luck--always."

I do not think my friend was versed in the pretty theory that good
luck is the subconscious wisdom of them who in previous incarnations
have been consciously wise. He was a member of the stock exchange,
and I smiled as at a certain quaintness in his remark. I asked in what
ways besides luck the "great character" was manifested. Oh, well, Pethel
had made a huge "scoop" on the stock exchange when he was only
twenty-three, and very soon had doubled that and doubled it again; then