You Play the Black & the Red Comes Up Up by Richard Hallas Read Free Book Online Page B

pile?"
     
    "It's your money," the man said.
     
    The people crowded close in back of me, and another fel low came up behind the counter to watch. I figured sure now that the red must start turning up, so I decided to play the black. Then I'd lose like I wanted to. I pushed the pile on the black. It had just been black six times running.
     
    The light started to slow down on the wheel so's you could see it. You couldn't see the light at first when it was going fast—only when it slowed down. We all watched. It came up black again for the seventh time.
     
    "Gees, that's the old fight," I said, pretending to be glad. "I'll leave it there. Okay?"
     
    "Okay," the man said.
     
    He piled up twenty beside my first twenty. The wheel went round. It came up black again. That made eight blacks.
     
    "Leave it there," I said. I was sure it couldn't come up nine times running.
     
    That made four hundred on the black. I said to myself that it must come up red now. I'd leave it there until it came up red, then they'd win.
     
    The light went round. It came up black for the ninth time. The people behind me all went: "Aa-a-a-ah!"
     
    Everybody started to crowd round.
     
    "Leave the eight hundred there," I said.
     
    "Whyn't you pull down some," someone said.
     
    "Look here, he can play without any advice," the man behind the counter said. "If you can't keep quiet, get out of here."
     
    "Well, the man's drunk. He isn't fit to handle his money."
     
    I turned round. It was a little old man, his hat all full of gray hair and mustache sticking out.
     
    "I can play it," I said. "All on the black."
     
    They started the light. It came up black again. That was ten times straight black had come up. The wheel had gone crazy and could only come up black.
     
    That was sixteen hundred dollars I had.
     
    By this time I didn't know what to do. I had kept playing the black, and the red wouldn't show up. I'd never seen a wheel come up one color ten times running. The old saying is that you play the black and the red comes up—but the saying wasn't true this time.
     
    The man behind the counter piled up the chips. They were stacked all over the black square. And I didn't want to win.
     
    "Play it all again?" he asked. He didn't seem too anxious.
     
    "No, put it all on the red," I said. I figured the wheel was hoodooed and the black would come up forever.
     
    "A bet—the pile on the red," he said.
     
    The light slowed up behi nd the wheel on the wall. Every one was staring. It clicked, slower and slower. And it went on the red!
     
    The first time red in eleven turns—and I had changed. I could hear all the people letting their breath out. I didn't know what to do.
     
    "Leave it on the red," I said. There was thirty-two hun dred dollars there. I didn't know what to do.
     
    "No bet," the man said. They didn't start the wheel.
     
    Then, right off, an argument started. The little guy back of me started it. He started shouting that they had to take the bet and spin the wheel.
     
    "Come on, spin that wheel!" he kept yelling. "Spin that wheel!"
     
    A smooth-looking little bird came up, and the men behind the counter kept talking, low, to him. The people were all poking their noses in, saying they had to run the wheel.
     
    "Look here," said the smooth-looking little bird, "we don't have to take any bets we don't want to."
     
    "Well, this is a crooked game," shouted the gray-haired guy. He was old, but full of ginger. He kept yelling it was crooked.
     
    "It's not crooked," the other fellow said. "We are open and above board. But we are not forced to take any bets. We have a ten-dollar limit."
     
    "Well, you were ready to take his hundred bucks if you'd won," the little guy said, full of fight.
     
    "Is that so? Well, we don't have to take this bet—or any bet we don't want to at any time. You see that?"
     
    The smooth bird pointed to a sign on the wall that said: We reserve the right to refuse accommodation.
     
    All right, I thought. I