He could think of nothing but the two-up school, which had swallowed all his spare money before he was married.
Since his marriage he had sworn off the school, as he couldn't spare the money with a wife to keep.
All his life Chook had lived from hand to mouth.

He belonged to the class that despises its neighbours for pinching and scraping, and yet is haunted by the idea of sudden riches falling into its lap from the skies.

Certainly Chook had given Fortune no excuse for neglecting him.
He was always in a shilling sweep, a sixpenny raffle, a hundred to one double on the Cup.

He marked pak-a-pu tickets, took the kip at two-up, and staked his last shilling more readily than the first.

It was always the last shilling that was going to turn the scale and make his fortune.