“It was a curious thing, and to Dr. Baisley it was, no doubt, ‘confirmation strong as proofs of Holy Writ’ of his superstition, but it is a fact that his luck turned from the moment Captain Foss entered the game. He had been a heavy loser before. I could count up over a thousand dollars in chips that I had seen him lose, and I hadn’t seen all the play. But the turn set the chips rolling back to him so fast that he was soon even and then winner to a considerable amount. “Of the others, one was evidently a commercial traveler who had got into a heavier game than knights of the road often indulge in. Somehow, he did not seem like a gentleman, and I was not greatly surprised when he lost his temper, for his luck had changed also. He had been the largest winner at first, for the other two won and lost in turn, so that they were not far from even. But as the doctor won, he lost, until at length he pulled out what seemed to be his last hundred-dollar bill and bought another stack of chips. “These, too, he was losing when the doctor beat his flush with a full. Throwing down his cards, he said, with a nasty sneer: ‘It’s evident that you knew who to invite into the game.’ “There was a hush for a moment. Everybody seemed to be holding his breath. We all looked at Captain Foss, and I don’t think anybody would have been surprised to see him draw a weapon. The insult was a frightful one, and, as I said, the Captain could blaze on occasions. “He blazed this time. There was no motion toward physical violence, but he glared at the fellow as an angry tiger might have glared, and the veins stood out in uneven knots on his forehead, and his clenched fists quivered in the struggle for self-control. At first he could not speak for rage, but presently he swallowed spasmodically twice, and then broke forth. “‘If I could lower myself and forget my place so far as to meet such a vile whelp of a hell-hound as you on common ground, I’d cut your ears off and make you eat them along with your words. As it is, damn you--’ And then he went on with such a torrent of profane abuse as I for one never heard before or since. The wretch actually cowered under it like a whipped dog. He tried to speak once or twice, but he might as well have tried to whistle down a whirlwind, and presently realizing his miserable impotence, he shoved the balance of his chips over to the banker, who cashed them, and slunk away to his stateroom. “Captain Foss sat talking, or raving, whichever it was, till the fellow’s door closed. Then he stopped, and we could see that he was again struggling to control himself. There was another hush, which was presently broken by a young fellow less than twenty years old, who had been listening open-mouthed. “‘My!’ he exclaimed. ‘But that was fine.’