A little after twelve o’clock she was at the policy-office.  The drawn numbers for the morning were already in.  Her combination was 4, 10, 40.  With an eagerness that could not be repressed, she caught up the slip of paper containing the thirteen numbers out of seventy-five, which purported to have been drawn that morning somewhere in “Kentucky,” and reported by telegraph—­caught it up with hands that shook so violently that she could not read the figures.  She had to lay the piece of paper down upon the little counter before which she stood, in order that it might be still, so that she could read her fate.

The first drawn number was 4.  What a wild leap her heart gave!  The next was 24; the next 8; the next 70; the next 41, and the next 39.  Her heart grew almost still; the pressure as of a great hand was on her bosom. 10 came next.  Two numbers of her row were out.  A quiver of excitement ran through her frame.  She caught up the paper, but it shook as before, so that she could not see the figures.  Dashing it back upon the counter, and holding it down almost violently, she bent over, with eyes starting from their sockets, and read the line of figures to the end, then sank over upon the counter with a groan, and lay there half fainting and too weak to lift herself up.  If the 40 had been there, she would have made a hit of twenty-five thousand dollars.  But the 40 was not there, and this made all the difference.

“Once more,” said the policy-dealer, in a tone of encouragement, as he bent over the miserable woman.  Yesterday, 4 came out; to-day, 4, 10; tomorrow will be the lucky chance; 4, 10, 40 will surely be drawn.  I never knew this order to fail.  If it had been 10 first, and then 4, 10, or 10, 4, I would not advise you to go on.  But 4, 10, 40 will be drawn to-morrow as sure as fate.”

“What numbers did you say? 4, 10, 40?” asked an old man, ragged and bloated, who came shuffling in as the last remarks was made.

“Yes,” answered the dealer.  “This lady has been doubling, and as the chances go, her row is certain to make a hit to-morrow.”

“Ha!  What’s the row? 4, 10, 40?”

“Yes.”

The old man fumbled in his pocket, and brought out ten cents.

“I’ll go that on the row.  Give me a piece.”

The dealer took a narrow slip of paper and wrote on it the date, the sum risked and the combination of figures, and handed it to the old man, saying,

“Come here to-morrow; and if the bottom of the world doesn’t drop out, you’ll find ten dollars waiting for you.”

Two or three others were in by this time, eager to look over the list of drawn numbers and to make new bets.

“Glory!” cried one of them, a vile-looking young woman, and she commenced dancing about the room.

All was excitement now.  “A hit! a hit!” was cried.  “How much? how much?” and they gathered to the little counter and desk of the policy-dealer.