The wheel spun. Suddenly the needle swung around to a point between
the north and south poles, quivered a moment, and came to rest in that
position. Then it swung back to the north.
It was some seconds before I realized the significance of it. It
had pointed at the table--and DeLong had lost again. There was some
electric attachment at work.
Kennedy and I exchanged glances, and he shoved the compass into my
hand quickly. "You watch it, Walter, while I play," he whispered.
Carefully concealing it, as he had done, yet holding it as close to
the table as I dared I tried to follow two things at once without
betraying myself. As near as I could make out, something happened at
every play. I would not go so far as to assert that whenever the large
stakes were on a certain number the needle pointed to the opposite
side of the wheel, for it was impossible to be at all accurate about
it. Once I noticed the needle did not move at all, and he won. But
on the next play he staked what I knew must be the remainder of his
winnings on what seemed a very good chance. Even before the wheel was
revolved and the ball set rolling, the needle swung about, and when
the platinum ball came to rest Kennedy rose from the table, a loser.
"By George, though," exclaimed DeLong, grasping his hand. "I take it
all back. You are a good loser, sir. I wish I could take it as well as
you do. But then, I'm in too deeply. There are too many 'markers' with
the house up against me."
Senator Danfield had just come in to see how things were going.
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