One day, he pawned his meagre jewelry for all he could obtain thereon, which amounted to only a dollar and a half. He ate a big meal at a cheap restaurant, got his shirts from the laundry, paid fifty cents on his room rent, and went with the remainder to a game. Luck was with him, as it is with all, once in a while. True, it was only in a small measure, but he had sufficient to finish paying his rent, bought a cold lunch that he sensibly tucked away for future purposes, and went to bed with a dollar in his pocket. Sleeping peacefully at two A.M., he was awakened by John Moore, the man of the house, who told him--Sidney heard this--of a great game close by, and where hundreds were at stake. So Legs got up, not too cheerfully, from his comfortable bed and peaceful sleep, dressed, and a moment later, followed Moore out into the night, and to fortune. (?) He came back in about an hour. He was drunk and broke, angry with himself, and more so with John Moore. "Damn that nigger!" he cried terribly, when alone with Wyeth. "Damn him, damn him, d-a-m-n him! Came in here and got me out of bed," he roared, brandishing his long arms. "When I was sleeping the sleep of peace. 'Nigga's gotta big game on; all kinds a-money. I'n beat 'm in scan, know I c'n.' And then like a fool," and here he looked down at himself, as if to see which would be the best part to kick, "I up and goes with him. Of course, he must have a drink for himself; so a quarter first went to 'get him right.' And then to the game. No sooner had we arrived than 'slip me a haf,' said he, and like a damn fool I did. He bet a quarter that a dinge who held the craps wouldn't hit, and lost. He repeated--and lost again. He wanted the last quarter, declaring his luck would begin with it; but I forestalled him and got the craps myself and threw them dancing, clear across the table, and they turned up," Wyeth waited eagerly, "--craps!" "Doggone that nigga! 'f he comes around me again, I'm going to shoot him in the head--right through the middle of the head!" And with this solemn declaration, he went forthwith back to bed. He slept peacefully, and awakened the following morning, hungry and madder than ever, as the fact dawned upon him. Wyeth loaned him a quarter, and gave him some good advice. "Quit it! Get a job! Work! Honest work! Come to the room with a book, read and thereby learn something and save your money!" "I will, so help me God!" declared the other, feeling repentant all the way through. "And remember--in speaking of the God--he helps those who help themselves." "My father was a preacher!"