"Exactly," returned Darrin. "I have only to study the faces here to know better than to risk even a franc-piece at one of these tables."
"And you, Dalzell?" inquired Totten.
"I haven't any French money, anyway," grinned Dan.
"Not at all necessary to have French money," laughed Totten. "Any kind of real money is good here—as long as it lasts. Every nation on earth is represented here to-night, and the attendants know the current exchange rate for any kind of good money that is coined or printed. Look closely about you and you will see other things that are worth nothing. There are men here, some of them limping, others showing the pallor of illness, who are undoubtedly French, English or Italian officers, injured at the front and sent home to hospitals. Being still unfitted to return to their soldier duties at the front, they are passing time here and indulging in their mania for gambling. And here, too, you will see wealthy French, Italian, English or Russian civilians who have returned to Monte Carlo to gamble, though later on they are pretty certain to be held up to contempt at home for gambling money away here instead of buying government war bonds at home."
"You have been here before?" Dave asked.
"Oh, yes," nodded Totten, "and as I do not play, and would not do so in any circumstances, this place has not much interest for me."
"I can hardly imagine," said Ensign Darrin, gravely, "that I shall ever bother to pay a second visit here."
"It's a good deal of a bore," yawned Lieutenant Totten, behind his hand. "I am glad to note that most of the people here look like Europeans. I should hate to believe that many Americans could be foolish enough to come here."
At that moment a stout, red-faced man rose from a table near by, his voice booming as he laughed:
"I have lost only sixteen thousand francs. I shall be sure to come back and have my revenge. In Chicago my signature is good at any time for a million dollars—for five million francs!"