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Her strong young fingers unconsciously gripped the soft flesh of her mother’s shoulders. Suddenly she dropped on her knees beside the other’s chair, while she took possession of the work-worn hands lying in the lap before her. She raised them both to her young lips and covered them with warm kisses of real devotion. Then she held them tightly.

“Mum, dear, we haven’t a thing but that eight thousand. Not a thing but that. But there’s money—money in plenty in Beacon at the Speedway. Father always reckoned so when things were bad. And he most always found it. I’m going to find it, too, all we want. You know what father used to say. He taught Jim and me the poker game he played, and he taught us good. And in the end, do you mind how I took his, and Jim’s, spare cash when they had it? Do you? I do. And do you remember the thing father always said? He said I’d the poker face, and the poker head, and the only luck in the world he was scared to buck. It’s that luck we’re going to buck, dear. We’re going right into Beacon with our dollars. And I’m going to buck the game for all that’s in me. Ther’s not a thing else for us. True, ther’ isn’t. Jim’s gone. Our Jim! You know it. And, for all I’ve said, I know it, too. We’ve no one but ourselves and my luck to save us from starving in a fierce, relentless world. Are you game, dear? I may do it? Sure I may. I can see it in your poor, sad, tired eyes. Yes. It’s that, sure, dear, and you can trust me.”