Peace varied the proceedings by placing another counter upon the margin marked “even.”
The ball spun on, and the roulette turned, and ultimately his half-crown was raked up by the banker, as an odd number had been marked by the little marble.
Varying fate attended his efforts, but in the end he left off a loser of about fifteen shillings. Kempshead, on the contrary, was a winner.
“I suppose you’ve had enough of it for one evening?” said the latter to Peace, who answered in the affirmative.
“Very good; we’ll be for making tracks, then.”
“What is the name of your club?” inquired Peace; when they had gained the street.
“It is called the ‘Tumblers’.”
“What a singular name! How came it to be christened that?”
“I don’t know. The idea is, I believe, that if the members tumble down they know how to pick themselves up again.”