The backslider glanced at the tables and shook his head. “No, I guess not. I’m a little off to-night, and I’d be pretty sure to go in the hole.” Deverney laughed. “That’s what they all say when they are broke. I’ll stake you.” “No--thanks; I didn’t mean that. I have money enough.” He strolled down the long room toward the faro table, turning the matter over in his mind. He had left Mrs. Seeley’s with madness in his heart, and with a fell determination to go and do something desperate--something that would make Dorothy’s heart ache if she could know of it. But now that he was on the brink of the pool of ill-doing the stench of it sickened him. Calling the plunge revenge, it seemed very mean and despicable. Halfway down the room he faced about, and but for the drink he had taken would have gone home. But the liquor tipped the scale. It was adulterated poison, as it was bound to be in such a place, and Brant--at his worst the most temperate of men on the side of appetite--had neither touched nor tasted since turning the new leaf. So the decent prompting passed, and he wheeled and went back to watch the game. After that the descent was easy. A dollar ventured became two, the two four, and the four eight; Presently one of the sitters rose, and Brant dropped into the vacant chair, lighted a fresh cigar, and ordered another drink. It was what he used to do in the old days when his conscience stirred uneasily, and now, as then, the intoxicant had the desired effect. It slew the man in him without unstringing the steady nerve of the gamester. Since he cared not whether he lost or won, luck was with him from the first and throughout. Play as he might, he could not lose; and when he rose at midnight, Draco, who acted as his own banker, had to stop the game and go to his safe for more money before he could declare the dividend. “There are your ducats,” he said, tossing a thick roll of bills across the table. “It’s an open game, and I haven’t anything to say; all the same, I’m willing to see you pull out. This outfit isn’t any blooming gold mine.” Brant unrolled the money, twisted it into a spill, and handed it back. “Keep it, if you like; I haven’t any use for it.” Draco laughed. “Yes, I will!--and have you charging back here with a gun when you’re sob--when you’ve had time to think about it? Not much! I haven’t got any time to open up a shooting gallery and play bow-and-arrow with you, George.” Brant stuffed the money into his pocket and went his way. As he was going out, Deverney beckoned him. “Say, I heard two fellows talking about the way you were winning,” he said, leaning across the bar and lowering his voice. “I didn’t know either one of them, but they’re a hard-looking lot--the kind that waits for you at the mouth of a dark alley. Are you fixed?” Brant nodded. “You say you don’t know them?” “Only by sight. They’ve both been here before; though not together till to-night.” “Talk as if they knew me?”