A good many of them were still in
their masks and dominos, though these, for the most part, removed
their vizors before playing.
Neither McWilliams nor his friend were betting high, and the luck
had been so even that at the end of two hours' play neither of
them had at any time either won or lost more than fifteen
dollars. In point of fact, they were playing not so much to win
as just to keep in touch with the gay, youthful humor of the
night.
They were getting tired of the game when two men jingled in for a
drink. They were talking loudly together, and it was impossible
to miss the subject of their conversation.
McWilliams gave a little jerk of his head toward one of them.
"Judd Morgan," his lips framed without making a sound.
Bannister nodded.
"Been tanking up all day," Mac added. "Otherwise his tongue would
not be shooting off so reckless."
A silence had fallen over the assembly save for the braggarts at
the bar. Men looked at each other, and then furtively at
Bannister. For Morgan, ignorant of who was sitting quietly with
his back to him at the faro-table, was venting his hate of
Bannister and McWilliams.
"Both in the same boat. Did y'u see how Mac ran to help him
to-day? Both waddies.
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