"Well, what are they doing there, then?"
The apple man put his long finger up beside his nose.
"Dot vos a blace ver dere rich fool vos plow in his money; see?"
"A gambling-place?"
"Oxactly."
"Who runs it?"
"Dot I don't vos know. I dinks me a fellow named Ditson."
"Do many men go there?"
"Yah. Somedimes so many as two dozen by von night."
"And they do nothing there but gamble?"