ing. "There's a hundred. Take my advice and place it upon 23."
Carmelita shook her head doubtfully. "No, I thank you. I really couldn't think of risking your chips. I might lose."
He shrugged his shoulders and tossed his chips to the banker to place upon the number which he had recommended. Then he drew out his jeweled cigarette case, supplied Carmelita and lit it for her, and struck a match for himself—all without glancing at the wheel as it spun. He hardly seemed to hear the banker announce that Number 23 had won but accepted his winnings indifferently.
"Rao is a wizard on the wheel," Lucy declared with as near a flash of admiration as she ever offered. "A few more trips here with him and we shall be barred, I'm afraid. He is uncanny."
"Please tell me your secret," asked Carmelita, trying to say it lightly but interested in spite of herself.
"I could probably give you some mystifying answer," he smiled. "Because I am an Indian and come from a mystic land you would believe me. But really it is just luck—luck and a bit of mathematics and what you Americans eall a 'hunch.'"
To prove it he risked the entire amount he had won upon another number. Again the,
