34S

ZIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI.

would drink it if it was spirits, it was so good and so ahead of any-
thing he had ever run across before. Surreptitious smiles, at this,
passed from one rascal to another, and they filled all the glasses, and
whilst Backus honestly drained his to the bottom they pretended to
do the same, but threw the wine over their shoulders.

I could not bear the scene, so I wandered forward and tried to
interest myself in the sea and the voices of the wind. But no, my

uneasy spirit kept dragging me
back at quarter-hour intervals;
and always I saw Backus drink-
ing his wine—fairly and square-
ly, and the others throwing theirs
away. It was the painfullest
night I ever spent.

The only hope I had was
tfoat we might reach our anchor-
age with speed — that would
break up the game. I helped
the ship along all I could with
my prayers. At last we went
booming through the Golden
Gate, and my pulses leaped for
joy. I hurried back to that
door and glan ced in. Alaa3 there
was small room for hope —
Backus's eyes were heavy and
bloodshot, his sweaty face was
crimson, his speech maudlin and
thick, his body sawed drunkenly
about with the weaving motion

of the ship. He drained another glass to the dregs, whilst the cards
were being dealt.

He took his hand, glanced at it, and his dull eyes lit up for a
moment The gamblers observed it, and showed their gratification
by hardly perceptible signs*

* How many cards ?'

* None \ * said Backus*

THE BOOB WAS A-CBACK.