“How about you, ‘ J. ’?”

“Nothing much, except that I believe in ‘luck’⁠—a little. The other day I flipped a coin in Gretry’s office. If it fell heads I was to sell wheat short, and somehow I knew all the time that the coin would fall heads⁠—and so it did.”

“And you made a great deal of money,” said Laura. “I know. Mr. Court was telling me. That was splendid.”

“That was deplorable, Laura,” said Cressler, gravely. “I hope some day,” he continued, “we can all of us get hold of this man and make him solemnly promise never to gamble in wheat again.”

Laura stared. To her mind the word “gambling” had always been suspect. It had a bad sound; it seemed to be associated with depravity of the baser sort.