their bets, some on one card and some on the other. Then turning up the cards, the dealer begins to draw from the top, and the game goes on.
At first the gambler lost heavily; yet quietly, with unimpassioned face he continued, and the miners were elated. The saloon-keeper drove a thriving trade, and all warmed up to the business. Others came, in twos and threes, until not a man was left at the diggings. Work being thus suspended, the camp yielded to the seductive influence of play. At length luck left the miners. The gambler won. Gradually the pile on the table enlarged until after three days of roaring jollification the miners were bankrupt. The gambler and saloon-keeper had all the money. Instead of returning, with their returning senses, to their work, two thirds of the luckless and chagrined individuals left the camp within a week.
There was a beautiful little French woman who kept a roulette table at the north end of Montgomery street. There were many such in San Francisco. The room was elegantly furnished like a boudoir. The syren sat behind the table, elegantly arrayed in black silk, her face fronting the open door, whirling her wheel most bewitchingly Before her lay a pile of silver dollars and gold ounces. A tall bony New Englander, brought up on mush, catechism, and Poor Richard's almanac, passing by stopped to survey the scene. He caught the infection. Throwing looks of languishing love into her melting eyes, gazing upon her luscious lips and voluptuous form, he entered and seated himself before her. First he lay down gold pieces, then silver, all the time almost invariably losing. Then he brought out a watch, then another watch, and another. He had had a lucky game of poker the night before which accounted for the watches. The charmer swept them all to her side of the table. Finally he drew a ring from his finger.
"Combien?" asked the woman.
