They moved uneasily on their stools, and some rubbed stubbly chins with perplexed, uncertain fingers, and they all glowered at the speaker. He was uncomfortable, this fellow.
"Well, there mayn't be as much gold up here as men think, but there's more hope than anywhere on earth."
"To hell with hope; give me certainty," says Salmon P.
"Exactly. So you shuffle the cards, and laugh down the five-cent limit. You'll play one last big game, and it'll be for life this time as well as fortune."
"Cheerful cuss, ain't he?" whispered Schiff.
"They say we're a nation of gamblers. Well, sir, the biggest game we play is the game that goes on near the Arctic Circle."
"What's the matter with Wall Street?"
"'Tisn't such a pretty game, and they don't play for their lives. I tell you it's love of gambling brings men here, and it's the splendid stiff game they find going on that keeps them. There's nothing like it on earth."
His belated enthusiasm deceived nobody.
"It don't seem to have excited you much," said Mac.