At the post where the men received some of the pay for their service, Rodney Allison was to undergo temptations and experiences that were to cause him bitter reflections. The soldiers had endured privations and, as frequently happens, many sought relaxation in debauch at the first opportunity. Liquor was to be had by those with money to pay for it, and many a frontiersman would not leave it until his last penny should be spent and then would resume his life of wandering and peril. With the drinking there was gambling with cards and dice. The drinking had no attraction for young Allison; on the contrary he looked upon it with deep disgust. Ordinarily the gambling would have had no fascination for him. Indeed, until his captivity, he had not known one card from another. One of the accomplishments Ahneota had learned from his acquaintance with white men was the use of cards, for which he had a great passion, and to please him the boy had spent many an hour playing various games. Rodney's grief over the reported death of his father, his dread of returning home with the sad news to face debt and poverty, coloured his thoughts,--often woke him from sleep, and made him reckless. As he watched the games he heard a familiar voice and, looking, saw Mogridge at a table with large winnings at his hand. Rodney, from the day they first met, had cherished an unreasoning dislike for the young Englishman. He felt, rather than knew, that Mogridge had been instrumental in having his father dismissed by Squire Danesford. The boy was shrewd enough to suspect the fellow had come on with other adventurers to meet the army and fleece the unsuspecting. That money at his hand would clear the little home from debt and assure protection for the family for the present. How cool and insolent the fellow was! "Sorry your luck runs so badly. The game's much less interesting, you know," Mogridge drawled as he swept the poor fellow's money into his own pile. Then, looking up and noticing Rodney, though it did not appear that he recognized him, he said in a bantering tone, "Hello, here's a young warrior who looks as if he'd like to tempt the fair goddess, Chance, with a sixpence." With the hot blood pounding his temples, and scarcely knowing what he did, the boy took the proffered seat. "I'll take a hand, if there be no objection," said a bystander with a wink at Mogridge, which Rodney could not see. While the cards were being shuffled the "Chevalier" came along and remarked that the game would be worth watching. Neither Mogridge nor his "pal" seemed pleased, but the "Chevalier" remained standing where he could observe every movement of Rodney's antagonists. The cards were dealt and played. The luck, which so often leads the amateur on to his downfall, smiled on the boy.