The banker quietly took his hundred dollars, and counted him out some ivory checks used to represent cash in the game.
The betting went on. He laid down five dollars’ worth of checks on the ace and won. He laid down another five and lost. He laid twenty on and lost. He laid twenty more on and lost.
“Confound that unlucky ace!” said he, “I will not try it again.”
So, he tried betting on two others at once. He laid five on the seven, and thirty on the eight. The seven won and the eight lost. He won five dollars and lost thirty.
“Blast the luck!” said he. “Here are the rest of the checks on the ace. I’ll try my luck on it again.” And he placed the remainder of his hundred dollars’ worth of checks on the ace.
And lost.
He then abruptly mentioned the vulgar name of a place that is also called Hades and Erebus, and wished ugly wishes on himself if he’d bet any more. But he soon thought he would like to try it again—just once. He resolved to risk one bet of a hundred dollars, and if that should lose, he wouldn’t try it again.
“Let me see,” said he, “I’ll put it on the ace. No, I won’t. The ace is unlucky for me. I’ll put it on the seven; that won for me once.”
He put it on the seven and lost. If he had put it on the ace that time he would have won.
He then used profane language, and spoke very disrespectfully of the cards in general, and of the seven-spot in particular. Then he left the room.