11. He gives a glad shout at this, and Leonard Wales and lady move
over to see what it's all about. Sandy is neatly stacking his red chips
and plays No. 11 once more, but No. 22 comes up.
"Gee!" says Sandy. "I forgot. Twenty-two, of course, and likewise
thirty-three."
So he now puts dollar bets on all three numbers, and after a couple more
turns he's collecting on 33, and the next time 22 comes again. He don't
hardly have time to stack his chips, they come so fast; and then it's
No. 11 once more, amid rising excitement from all present. Cora Wales is
panting like the Dying Gamekeeper I once saw in the Eden Musee in New
York City. Sandy quits now for a moment.
"Let every man, woman, and child, come one, come all, across the room
and crook the convivial elbow on my ill-gotten gains!" he calls out.
So everybody orders something; Tim Mahoney going in behind the bar to
help out. Even Cora Wales come over when she understood no expense was
attached to so doing, though taking a plain lemonade, because she said
alcohol would get one's vibrations all fussed up, or something like
that.
Cousin Egbert was still chipper after this reverse, though it had swept
away about all he was to the good up to that time.
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