“‘Well, I’ve lost, and I’ll leave town on the morning train. That’ll do, I suppose, won’t it?’ “‘Yes, that’ll do,’ said Stein, gravely. He had won in the outrageous contest, and I expected to see him greatly elated, but instead he seemed curiously depressed. And as the situation was decidedly embarrassing for all hands we went to bed uncommonly early that night, so that everybody was up in time next morning to see Bradley go on the early train as he had agreed to do.” “Well, yes,” said the gray-haired young-looking man, in answer to a question, “that is the end of the story, as far as the poker part of it goes. Of course there was this sequel. It was inevitable, I suppose. Lena followed Bradley a day or two afterward, and Stein drank himself to death.” The Club’s Last Game _IT TAUGHT AN INTERESTING MORAL ABOUT RAISING THE LIMIT_ “It is sometimes hard to draw the line between a professional gambler and another,” said the gray-haired young-looking man in the club smoking-room. “And even if you do succeed in making the distinction clear, the comparison isn’t always to the detriment of the professional. I remember an instance in a poker club to which I once belonged, which was interesting enough, though it pointed no particular moral that I know of, unless it was by renewing the old doubt whether the devil is always as black as he is painted. “Our club was rather a curious one in some respects, though we did not realize it at the time. It began with a little game in one of the New England cities where you have to keep very quiet about your card playing unless you don’t give a rap for your standing in the business community, to say nothing of your social position. I don’t know that people are so very much better in such communities than they are elsewhere, but there is a sort of general bluff made by common consent that shuts out open and flagrant offenders from companionship with those who have more regard for ‘the speech of people.’ “There were six of us in the party that used to meet every Saturday night at one another’s rooms, and it was as pleasant and harmonious a circle as I ever joined. We were all young business men, unmarried and prosperous, and all of excellent standing at that time. There was never a quarrel among us, in all our play, and for a long time the play was never heavy enough to hurt even the worst loser. It was almost always a fifty-cent limit, though we would often disregard the limit in the single round of consolation jack-pots with which we concluded every evening’s play.