Smoke shook his head and waited. A dozen plays went by, and then, suddenly, he placed ten one-dollar chips on “26.” The number won, and the keeper paid Smoke three hundred and fifty dollars. A dozen plays went by, twenty plays, and thirty, when Smoke placed ten dollars on “32.” Again he received three hundred and fifty dollars.
“It's a hunch!” Shorty whispered vociferously in his ear. “Ride it! Ride it!”
Half an hour went by, during which Smoke was inactive, then he placed ten dollars on “34” and won.
“A hunch!” Shorty whispered.
“Nothing of the sort,” Smoke whispered back. “It's the system. Isn't she a dandy?”
“You can't tell me,” Shorty contended. “Hunches comes in mighty funny ways. You might think it's a system, but it ain't. Systems is impossible. They can't happen. It's a sure hunch you're playin'.”
Smoke now altered his play. He bet more frequently, with single chips, scattered here and there, and he lost more often than he won.
“Quit it,” Shorty advised. “Cash in. You've rung the bull's-eye three times, an' you're ahead a thousand. You can't keep it up.”
At this moment the ball started whirling, and Smoke dropped ten chips on “26.” The ball fell into the slot of “26,” and the keeper again paid him three hundred and fifty dollars.
“If you're plum crazy an' got the immortal cinch, bet 'em the limit,” Shorty said. “Put down twenty-five next time.”