Since the sale of the block in the Mission he had seen but little of Geary; young Haight had not been his companion since the time when Turner Ravis had broken with him, but little by little he had begun to associate with Ellis and his friend the Dummy.  Almost every evening the three were together, sometimes at the theatre, sometimes in the back rooms of the Imperial, sometimes even in the parlours of certain houses, amid the murmur of heavy silks and the rustle of stiffly starched skirts.  At times they would be drunk four nights of the week, and on these occasions it was tacitly understood between Ellis and Vandover that they should try to get the Dummy so full that he could talk.

However, Ellis’ vice was gambling; he and the Dummy often passed the whole night over their cards, and as Vandover came more and more under Ellis’ influence—­succumbing to it as weakly as he had succumbed to the influence of Charlie Geary—­he began to join these parties.  They played Van John at five dollars a corner.  Vandover won as often as he lost, but the habit of cards grew upon him steadily.

Toward eleven o’clock the evening of the day upon which he had drawn his five hundred, Vandover went around to the Imperial looking for his two friends.  He found Ellis drinking whisky all alone in one of the little rooms, as was his custom; fifteen minutes later the Dummy and Flossie joined them.  Flossie had grown stouter since Vandover had first known her, nearly ten years ago.  She had a double chin, and puffy, discoloured pockets had come under her eyes.  Now her hair was dyed, her cheeks and lips rouged, and her former air of health and good spirits gone.  She never laughed.  She had smoked so many cigarettes that now her voice hardly rose above a whisper.  At one time she had been accustomed to boast that she never drank, and it had been one of her peculiarities for which she was well known.  But on this occasion she joined Ellis in his whisky.  She had long since departed from her old-time rule of temperance, and nowadays drank nothing else but whisky.  She had even become well known for the quantity of whisky she could drink.

For half an hour the four sat around the little table, talking about the new, enormous Sutro Baths that were building at that time.  After a while Flossie left them, and the Dummy began to imitate the motions of some one dealing cards, looking at the same time inquiringly into their faces.

“How about that, Bandy?” asked Vandover.  “Shall we have a game to-night?”

The man of few words merely nodded his head and drank off the rest of his whisky at a swallow.  They all went up to Vandover’s room.  Vandover got out the cards, the celluloid chips, and a fresh box of cigars.  The Dummy held up two fingers of his left hand, shutting them together afterward with his right and making a hissing noise between his teeth.  He raised his eyebrows at Vandover.  Vandover understood, and, ringing for a bell-boy, ordered up three bottles of soda in siphon bottles.