I went to Epsom with my dear old friend Charley Wright, and we soon set to work in one of the booths to make something towards our fortunes at _rouge et noir_. The booth was kept by a man who seemed--to me, at all events--to be the soul of honour. I had no reason to speak otherwise than well of him, for I staked a half-crown on the black, and won two half-crowns every time, or nearly every time. I thought it a most excellent game, and with less of the element of chance or skill in it than any game I ever played. My pockets were getting stuffed with half-crowns, so that they bulged, and caused me to wonder if I should be allowed to leave the racecourse alive, for there were many thieves who visited the Downs in those days. But my friend Charley was with me, and I knew he would be a pretty trustworthy fellow in a row. This, however, was but a momentary thought, for I was too much engrossed in the game and in my good luck to dwell on possibilities. Nor did I interest myself in Charley's proceedings, but took it for granted that a game so propitious to me was no less so to him. He was playing with several others; who or what they were was of no moment to me. I pursued my game quietly, and picked up my half-crowns with great gladness and with no concern for those who had lost them. Presently, however, my attention was momentarily diverted by hearing Charley let off a most uncontrollable "D--n!" "What's the matter, Charley?" I asked, without lifting my head. "Matter!" says Charley; "rooked--that's all!" "Rooked! That's very extraordinary. I'm winning like anything. Look here!" and I pointed to my pockets, which were almost bursting. "Yes," said he, "I see how it is: you've been winning on twos to one, and I've been losing on threes." "Black's the winning colour to-day, Charley--_noir_; you should have backed _noir_. Besides, long odds are much too risky. I am quite content with two to one." Here there was a general break-up of the party, because Charley being out of it as well as several others, it left only one, and, of course, the keeper of the booth was not so foolish, however honourable, to pay me two half-crowns and win only one. So there it ended. That night I made this game a study, and the sensible conclusion came to me that if you would take advantage of the table you should play for the lower stakes, because you have a better chance of winning than those who play high. At least, that was the result of my policy; for while those who played high were ruined, my pockets were filled, and, by that cautious mode of playing, I was so lucky that, had there been enough at threes to one, I could have kept on making money as long as they had any to lose. I changed my half-crowns with the booth-keeper for gold, and reached my chambers safely with the spoil. And how pleasant it was to count it!