The American Legion Weekly [Volume 1, No 8 (August 22, 1919)] . y. Member I loaned yo sixbits fore we got on the boat?argued Sam. Yeh, but this is business,man, replied Jules on over to another theys a cheap gamesomewhere aroun on deck. Sam looked about gloomily,saw that games were starting on sev-eral of the mess tables, but in the noiseand din of betting and calling ofthrows he couldnt detect any soundwhich indicated that anyone had begunto deal in figures which might interesta man with the sum total of a dollarand seventy-five cents. Jes for ol times, les go fo a
The American Legion Weekly [Volume 1, No 8 (August 22, 1919)] . y. Member I loaned yo sixbits fore we got on the boat?argued Sam. Yeh, but this is business,man, replied Jules on over to another theys a cheap gamesomewhere aroun on deck. Sam looked about gloomily,saw that games were starting on sev-eral of the mess tables, but in the noiseand din of betting and calling ofthrows he couldnt detect any soundwhich indicated that anyone had begunto deal in figures which might interesta man with the sum total of a dollarand seventy-five cents. Jes for ol times, les go fo a dime,pleaded Sam. Cant do it, nohow. Shell openfo a dolla, boy, but she wont go fo noless. Sam shuffled away and presentlycame upon a little group of timid specu-lators who were discussing the propo-sition of shooting craps at five centsa throw. That was more like it. By EARL B. SEARCY Eight apoint, sang out Sam. Anickel he dont come. Take you, from across the table. The dice rolled six, nine, a pair ofsixes—then an eight. Shoot de other nickel? Come,vo good craps,baby boy shoot a little? asked pONNA ^ Sam. Thinkin about it, replied one ofthe lads. Want in? Yeh, if de stakes aint high, Samanswered. Carfare. Thats me, agreed Sam done had bad luck, an aint got avery big pile. The new-comer offered his dice forthe session, but the player who had in-vited him in preferred to use his is dice, they all agreed, so therolling was commenced. Shoot. Out they rolled again. The playerestablished ten, made a nine, an eleven—then a ten. Shoot twenty! announced the ladwho still possessed the cubes. I got a dime of it, called Sam. Therest was covered in five-cent lots. Theplayer kissed the dice, flourished hishand high above his head and rolled—a seven. Man yo shogot em trained,observed Sam, ashe separated him-self from the re-mainder of twenty-five cents, his firstoutlay. Start again witha nickel, called theplayer. Got you, fromone of the crowdwho hadn
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