THE  TRAIL  OF  '98            371
later he would cut loose and " hit the high places "; then, at last, beggared and broken, he would crawl back in shame and sorrow to the claim. O, that grey city! could it ever tell its woes and sorrows the great, white stars above would melt into compassionate tears.
Ah well, to the devil with all moralising! A short life and a merry one.    Switch on the lights!    Ring
up the curtain!    On with the play!
******
In the casino a crowd is gathering round the roulette wheel. Three-deep they stand. A woman rushes out from the dance-hall and pushes her way through the throng. She is very young, very fair and redundant of life. A man jostles her. From frank blue eyes she flashes a look at him, and from lips sweet as those of a child there comes the remonstrance: " Curse you; take care."
The men make way for her, and she throws a poke of dust on the red. " A hundred dollars out of that," she says. The coupier nods; the wheel spins round; she loses.
" Give me another two hundred in chips," she cries eagerly. The dealer hands them to her, and puts her poke in a drawer. Again and again she plays, placing chips here and there round the table. Sometimes she wins, sometimes she loses. At last she has quite a pile of chips before her. She laughs gleefully. "I guess I'll cash in now," she says. " That's good enough for to-night."
The man hands her back her poke, writes out a