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About ten minutes before one the next day as Geary came back from lunch he was surprised to see Vandover peeping through the half-open door of his office.  He had not thought that Vandover would come back.

Of the many different stories that Vandover had told about the disappearance of his bonds, the one that was probably truest was the one that accounted for the thing by his passion for gambling.  For a long time after his advent at the Reno House this passion had been dormant; he knew no one with whom he could play, and every cent of his income now went for food and lodging.  But one day, about six months before his visit to Geary’s office, Vandover saw that the proprietor of the Reno House had set up a great bagatelle board in a corner of the reading-room.  A group of men, sailors, ranchmen, and fruit venders were already playing.  Vandover approached and watched the game, very interested in watching the uncertain course of the marble jog-jogging among the pins.  The clear little note of the bell or the dry rattle as the marble settled quickly into one of the lucky pockets thrilled him from head to foot; his hands trembled, all at once his whole left side twitched sharply.

From that day the fate of the rest of Vandover’s little money was decided.  In two weeks he had lost twenty dollars at bagatelle, obtaining the money by selling a portion of his bonds at a certain broker’s on Montgomery Street.  As soon as he had begun to gamble again the old habits of extravagance had come back upon him.  From the moment he knew that he could get all the money he wanted by the mere signing of a paper, he ceased to be economical, scorning the former niggardliness that had led him to starve on one day that he might feast the next; now, he feasted every day.  He still kept his room at the Reno House, but instead of taking his meals by any ticket system, he began to affect the restaurants of the Spanish quarter, gorging himself with the hot spiced meals three and four times a day.  He quickly abandoned the bagatelle board for the card-table, gambling furiously with two of the ranchmen.  Almost invariably Vandover lost, and the more he lost the more eager and reckless he became.

In a little time he had sold every one of his bonds and had gambled away all but twenty dollars of the money received from the last one sold.  This sum, this twenty dollars, Vandover decided to husband carefully.  It was all that was left between him and starvation.  He made up his mind that he must stop gambling and find something to do.  He had long since abandoned his work at the paint-shop, but at this time he returned there and asked for his old occupation.  They laughed in his face.  Was that the way he thought they did business?  Not much; another man had his job, a much better man and one who was regular, who could be depended on.  That same evening Vandover broke his twenty dollars and became very drunk.