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The Decline and Fall of Henry Sanders

LEWIS JOHNSTON

It was with a feeling of apprehension that Henry Sanders entered
Joe Harrison's house that night. The air outside had been biting and
cold, and his sudden contact with this new atmosphere of thick smoke
made him momentarily dizzy. He still could not explain what had
prompted him to come. Perhaps it was the desire to be accepted in
this new clique of associates whom he had just met that afternoon.
He remembered how desperately he had tried to make a favorable
impression on them.

It seemed so long ago that his old employer, H. J. Clinton, had

called him into his office to tell him that he was to be transferred to
a better position in the Chicago branch of the company. At first he
was dubious at the prospect of leaving his small home town, in which
he had lived all of his life. The thought that the salary increase would
make life so much easier for Joanne and the kids quickly settled the
matter, however.

So he had accepted, and his first impression of the people with
whom he would be working had been strangely exciting. Their loud
geniality and apparent desire to befriend him had overcome his
first feelings of distaste at their swearing and off-color jokes, and before
he realized it, he felt almost like one of them. He now found himself
laughing and swearing, although rather ineffectively, right along with
these new friends.

And then Joe Harrison had suggested that he come to their poker
party that same night. Without giving it a second thought, he accepted,
and now, having thought it over while away from their influence,
he wondered why.

This feeling left him the minute he was led into the living room,
where a card table had been set up. Two sides of it were occupied
by the same two men he had met that afternoon. Bill and Pete, he
thought they were the right names, shouted their friendly greetings,
and Joe shoved a drink in his hand. "Well, what are we waiting for?
You deal, Pete," Joe shouted, and a sudden feeling of anticipation
crept over the men.

The next few hours seemed to Henry just one long maze of kings,
aces, wild cards and vodka, the latter causing the total picture to
become increasingly blurred. Strangely enough, Henry seemed to be
having phenomenal luck, and the stakes were continually mounting.

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