“Vingt sept, passe impair et noir.”
“But I telt ye tae pit it on passe,” said MacTaggart.
“No, monsieur said pair,” declared the croupier.
The Chef was appealed to. “Monsieur should have seen that his money was rightly staked,” said the Chef looking annoyed.
“Pay me,” cried MacTaggart, rising and clenching his fist.
He was ignored and the ball started for the next spin. Then MacTaggart did something unprecedented, something outrageous. He took up one of the rateaus and jammed it in the bowl of the wheel.
“By Goad,” said MacTaggart, “I’ll stop the bloody game till ye pay me.”
At this moment the red-faced man came in to the discussion. “I knew he was a crook,” he jeered. “Turn the beggar out.”
MacTaggart stared at him. For a moment he could not believe his ears, then a great glow came into his eyes and he swung the rateau and brought it down on the man’s head.
“Let me get at him,” he roared, “I’ll show him.”