“I don’t know.... There, don’t be so frightened. Come closer and look at these figures.”
On a sheet of paper he had made the following diagram:
“The seven dots,” he explained, “represent a run of seven or more on any of the simple chances. The run breaks as you see, then returns once again. It’s a well-known formation. Well, I’ve got to get that before I begin to play.”
“But it doesn’t happen very often,—only three or four times at a table in the course of the day’s play.”
“Yes, but I have the run of all the tables, fourteen of them. I can range the whole place. By glancing over the shoulders of those who are taking numbers, I can tell if there is anything in my line. When I find the combination I am seeking, I start staking in louis the sums I have marked.”
“You only stake one the second time....”
“Yes, that’s a buffer. I neither win nor lose if I gain that coup. I have to do that in order to ease up on my progression. Otherwise it would increase too rapidly. Then on the third, fourth, and fifth terms of my progression, I stand to win a louis only, but on the sixth term I win two louis, and on the seventh term, four. I use this progression because I have only a hundred louis at my disposal. I want to make a progression of seven terms, and I want my gains to increase as my stake increases. The great defect of the ordinary martingale is that you often find yourself obliged to risk quite a big sum to win a single unit.”
She continued to look at the figures frowningly.
“You see,” he went on eagerly, “to beat me the bank will have to follow up the first big run of seven or more by a second of eight, after a single break. Now I have examined a book of the records of the play at the second table for a whole year, and I haven’t found a single case of this happening. So you see, I feel pretty safe. I only want to make three wins a day, three louis. At that rate, in about seven weeks I shall have all your money back. You can return to Paris, start your shop, and live happily ever after. Great scheme, isn’t it?”