But, of course, there were rough journeys in America as well as pleasant ones. On the way to Omaha, for example, we had an experience of the wilds. At the small villages at which the train stopped it seemed to be the custom to adjourn for the fifteen or twenty minutes to the gambling dens that adjoin the stations. Gambling has never had any attraction for me personally, but “In Rome one does as Rome does;” and so in America. Accordingly, we visited one of these gambling houses. There is no question about the gambling. You play with dice. Everything is conducted at lightning speed, and before you know where you are high stakes have been lost or won--usually, it may be said, they are lost. In our case we started, in the few minutes at our disposal, by winning a good deal. Then we lost, and we left that place with our pockets practically empty. I had lost three hundred dollars, another lost four hundred, and a third eight hundred. During the next part of the journey we heard that there was another gambling house at the station at which we should stop on our way. It was in connection, we understood, with that at which we had just lost our money, and no doubt the manager would be informed by telegram of the easy manner in which we had been duped, in order to be prepared for our arrival. But we were determined to be even with those gambling house keepers. We agreed at the start not to risk more than five dollars, and if we won we would depart with our winnings before the luck, as in the last case, set in against us. For once expectations were realised. Precisely the same thing happened. At the beginning we had all the luck; we not only recovered what we had previously lost, but each of us had a few hundred dollars to the good. Then of a sudden our luck began to turn. That was the signal. There was six or seven minutes to spare before the train started, and the manager and his friends said “You have lots of time, gentlemen, they will tell you when the train’s ready.” Much to their astonishment, however, we insisted on leaving, and as we walked out with our pockets fairly full the faces of those men were a study. I think on this occasion we had turned the tables successfully. [Illustration] CHAPTER XI. MY DOG SULTAN. END OF THE TOUR.