"Hello, Anne," he said, "you sure picked a good night for strollin'. What's the idea?"
For a moment she said nothing by way of reply as she shook the rain from the cloak that hung loosely about her shoulders. Then she looked round the room at the men.
"Nothin's the idea," she remarked. "It's my night off and--well, where can you go in this place. Slingin' grub's all right--ten hours a day--but you want a change, don't you? Give me a smoke."
The request was addressed to McCartney, who proceeded at once to roll a cigarette while she looked on.
"Nobody in this town let's me in if they know I'm comin'," she remarked in a tone that carried not the slightest trace of regret. She wished simply to record the fact merely.
And a fact it was, for Anne, who was the single waitress at the lodging-house, had been placed in a class by herself in the town, though not a man in it--or woman either--had any facts upon which to base their prejudice.
For a moment only during the process of rolling the cigarette the eyes of McCartney and the girl met. No one in the room saw the exchange of glances and no one could have detected the slightest change of expression in either face.
McCartney smiled oddly as he folded the edge of the cigarette paper into place and tapped the ends lightly against his hand.
"Shouldn't have any trouble findin' a little entertainment in this bunch," he observed.
She regarded him coldly. "You didn't hear me sayin' anything about entertainment, did you?" she returned.
Without making any immediate reply he gave her the cigarette and offered his own for a light.
"Tell you what, Anne," he said at last, "I've a hunch you've brought me luck to-night an' I'd like to sit in to a game. I'd like to know if the boys here play the kind of a game I'm used to. Come on over, Anne, an' look on."
They walked over to the corner where the men were playing cards. On the far side of the table was Lush Currie, the pile of chips before him indicating that he had held a few good hands during the evening. As McCartney took his place at the table, Currie hesitated for a moment and acted as if he wanted to withdraw from the game. McCartney received his pile of chips and arranged them in three little piles under his right hand, then scanned the faces of the men before him.