There are thirty-eight of these pockets; two are marked "0" and
"00," the other numbered from one to thirty-six in an irregular and
confusing order and painted alternately red and black. At each end of
the table are thirty-six large squares correspondingly numbered and
colored. The "0" and "00" are of a neutral color. Whenever the ball
falls in the "0" or "00" the bank takes the stakes, or sweeps the
board. The Monte Carlo wheel has only one "0," while the typical
American has two, and the Chinese has four.
To one like myself who had read of the Continental gambling-houses
with the clink of gold pieces on the table, and the croupier with
his wooden rake noisily raking in the winnings of the bank, the
comparative silence of the American game comes as a surprise.
As we advanced, we heard only the rattle of the ball, the click of the
chips, and the monotonous tone of the spinner: "Twenty-three, black.
Eight, red. Seventeen, black." It was almost like the boys in a
broker's office calling off the quotations of the ticker and marking
them up on the board.
Leaning forward, almost oblivious to the rest, was Percival DeLong, a
tall, lithe, handsome young man, whose boyish face ill comported
with the marks of dissipation clearly outlined on it. Such a boy, it
flashed across my mind, ought to be studying the possible plays of
football of an evening in the field-house after his dinner at the
training-table, rather than the possible gyrations of the little
platinum ball on the wheel.
Pages:
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165