The incident served to liven the game up, and thereafter red and blue chips outnumbered the white ones in nearly every pot.
There was no thought of stopping for supper, and when the game broke up long past midnight Brent had lost three hundred thousand dollars. He turned to Kitty, who had never left her post at the back of his chair: "Come on, girl, let's go find something to eat and some fuzzy water," he smiled. "They sure had my number, tonight, but I'll go after them tomorrow."
Brent ordered and drank three glasses of whiskey, while waiting for the meal to be served, and after it was over, the girl leaned back in her chair and studied him as she sipped her champagne.
"You're different than you were a year ago," she said.
Brent laughed: "Sure, I was a poor man, then——"
The girl straightened in her chair and interrupted him abruptly, "And you'll never amount to a damn
until you're a poor man again!" she exclaimed, with such feeling that Brent stared at her in surprise.
"What! What do you mean?"
"I mean just what I said. A year ago you were some man. Folks say you're a mining engineer—educated in a college. What are you now? You're a gam., that's what you are, and the hooch is putting its mark on you, too—and it's a shame."
"What in the world is the matter with you, Kitty?" The man stared at her in surprise, "The hooch don't hurt me any—and I only play for the fun of the game——"