He had not thought that Vandover would come back.
Of the many different stories that Vandover had told about the
disappearance of his bonds, the one that was probably truest was the one
that accounted for the thing by his passion for gambling. For a long
time after his advent at the Reno House this passion had been dormant;
he knew no one with whom he could play, and every cent of his income now
went for food and lodging. But one day, about six months before his
visit to Geary's office, Vandover saw that the proprietor of the Reno
House had set up a great bagatelle board in a corner of the
reading-room. A group of men, sailors, ranchmen, and fruit venders were
already playing. Vandover approached and watched the game, very
interested in watching the uncertain course of the marble jog-jogging
among the pins. The clear little note of the bell or the dry rattle as
the marble settled quickly into one of the lucky pockets thrilled him
from head to foot; his hands trembled, all at once his whole left side
twitched sharply.
From that day the fate of the rest of Vandover's little money was
decided.
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