CHAPTER 22


"My Name's Pollard," said the older man. "Joe Pollard."

"Glad to know you, sir. My name--is Terry." The other admitted this
reticence with a faint smile.

"I got a name around here for keeping my mouth shut and not butting in on
another gent's game. But I always noticed that when a gent is in a losing
run, half the time he don't know it. Maybe that might be the way with
you. I been watching and seen your winnings shrink considerable lately."

Terry weighed his money. "Yes, it's shrunk a good deal."

"Stand out of the game till later on. Come over and have a bite to eat
with me."

He went willingly, suddenly aware of a raging appetite and a dinner long
postponed. The man of the black beard was extremely friendly.

"One of the prettiest runs I ever see, that one you made," he confided
when they were at the table in the hotel. "You got a system, I figure."

"A new one," said Terry. "I've never played before."

The other blinked.

"Beginner's luck, I suppose," said Terry frankly. "I started with fifty,