He left the four hundred down, and in another turn he had eight hundred.
"Luck is with me, boys!" He shouted.

"I'll break the bank! Let her swing for the king once more, Mr.Dealer!" To the wonder of all, though it was the last turn of the cards, the king won, and Wild Bill picked up sixteen hundred dollars.
His friends now urged him to quit, but the demon of the game had entered his soul, and he swore, with a terrible oath, that he would play till he broke the bank, or was broke himself.
A new pack was now put in the box, and once more the dealer cried out: "Make your bets gentlemen--make year bets! The game is ready!" Bill, with a reckless bravado, as much of rum as of his own nature, again laid all his winnings on one card--this time the queen.

And with wonderful luck--it could be nothing else--he again doubled his pile, this time his gains being thirty-two hundred dollars.
"Stop now, Bill!" cried California Joe, "This can't last!" "It shall last! The bank can't stand more than two more such pulls!" shouted Bill, wildly.
And again on the same card he staked his entire winnings.
The dealer and banker were one; he turned pale, but when all bets were down, he pulled his cards without a tremor in his hand.

But a groan broke from his lips as the queen once more came out on the winning side.
Once more Bill's stakes were doubled, and this time he changed his card.
The banker hesitated.

His capital would hardly cover the pile if Bill won again.
"Keep on," whispered a voice in his ear; "if he breaks you, I'll stake your bank." The banker looked up and saw, though she was disguised in male attire, a face he well knew.