Three Quiet Days 107 



A little later, Mr. Frohman made a series of statements that 

 may be commended to the serious consideration of ambitious 

 sports who may entertain any idea of "breaking the bank" in 

 the "square gambling game" mentioned earlier by the same 

 gentleman. 



"You prided yourself on running a straight game?" he was 

 asked. 



"No. It wasn't a straight game," frankly responded Mr. 

 Frohman. " It couldn't be." 



"Give me a little more information, Ben?" requested his 

 interlocutor. 



"Well, you see, if you're running a game — keeping a bank — 

 you've got to pay rent, and porter hire, janitor service, pay the 

 case keeper and the lookout, your own salary, and square the police, 

 and pay interest on the capital invested. And if you're going to 

 pay all those running expenses, outside of getting anything for 

 yourself, you've got to have a percentage in favor of the bank, 

 and a good big one, or you can't stay in business. That's why there 

 ain't no such thing as a straight game. There can't be. Gamb- 

 ling's a business, and the man keeping the bank has to make his 

 profit on it the same as any other man in business, and that's why 

 there can't be any such thing as a straight game." 



To-morrow, the tenth, the camp moves to Yellowstone, to 

 await the good pleasure of the more or less uncertain train expected 

 to leave on the eleventh — at eleven in the morning, or six in the 

 evening. There is an unconfirmed rumor that it has been known 

 to leave at eleven a. m. but nobody seems to think the possibility 

 of its leaving at all enough of a sporting chance to make a bet on. 



