`` yes , ' he said 'if you wish , i 'll do that ' and he looked reflectively down at the dog whining at his feet 'perhaps he would like to come to my lodgings with me and have a square meal for once in his miserable life ' and the bitter smile reappeared `` i left him then , before he could reconsider , and went downstairs someone -- probably jack wilden , he always had an orderly mind -- had changed all the markers for greenbacks and had stacked the money neatly in the center of the green felt none of them spoke to me as i gathered it up baker and jack wilden were smoking wordlessly , jason davidson was hanging his head and looking at his feet his face was a picture of misery and shame i touched him on the shoulder as i went back to the stairs and he looked at me gratefully `` when i reached the street again , it was utterly deserted brower had gone i stood there with a wad of greenbacks in each hand , looking vainly either way , but nothing moved i called once , tentatively , in case he should be standing in the shadows someplace near , but there was no response then i happened to look down the stray dog was still there , but his days of foraging in trash cans were over he was quite dead the fleas and ticks were leaving his body in marching columns i stepped back , revolted and yet also filled with a species of odd , dreamy terror i had a premonition that i was not yet through with henry brower , and so i was n't , but i never saw him again `` the fire in the grate had died to guttering flames and cold had begun to creep out of the shadows , but no one moved or spoke while george lit his pipe again he sighed and recrossed his legs , making the old joints crackle , and resumed `` needless to say , the others who had taken part in the game were unanimous in opinion we must find brower and give him his money .