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Davis, Richard Harding, 1864-1916

"Somewhere in France"

I couldn't _help_ winning. But
because I _was_ winning and because they were watching, I was careful
not to win on my own deal. I laid down, or played to lose. It was the
cards _they_ gave me I won with. And when they jumped me I told 'em
that. I could have proved it if they'd listened. But they were all up in
the air, shouting and spitting at me. They believed what they wanted to
believe; they didn't want the facts."
It may have been credulous of me, but I felt the boy was telling the
truth, and I was deeply sorry he had not stuck to it. So, rather
harshly, I said:
"They didn't want you to tell them you were a brother to Adolph Meyer,
either. Why did you think you could get away with anything like that?"
Talbot did not answer.
"Why?" I insisted.
The boy laughed impudently.
"How the devil was I to know he hadn't a brother?" he protested. "It was
a good name, and he's a Jew, and two of the six who were in the game are
Jews. You know how they stick together. I thought they might stick by
me."
"But you," I retorted impatiently, "are not a Jew!"
"I am not," said Talbot, "but I've often _said_ I was.


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