The contagion of his spirit seemed to affect the
others, to force them into desperate wagers, and thrill the lookers-on.
The perspiration was beading Slavin's forehead, and now and then an
oath burst unrestrained from his hairy lips. Hawes and Willis sat
white-faced, bent forward anxiously over the table, their fingers
shaking as they handled the fateful cards, but Hampton played without
perceptible tremor, his utterances few and monosyllabic, his calm face
betraying not the faintest emotion.
And he was steadily winning. Occasionally some other hand drew in the
growing stock of gold and bank notes, but not often enough to offset
those continued gains that began to heap up in such an alluring pile
upon his portion of the table. The watchers began to observe this, and
gathered more closely about his chair, fascinated by the luck with
which the cards came floating into his hands, the cool judgment of his
critical plays, the reckless abandon with which he forced success. The
little room was foul with tobacco smoke and electric with ill-repressed
excitement, yet he played on imperturbably, apparently hearing nothing,
seeing nothing, his entire personality concentrated on his play.
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