Anything that he greatly desired to see accomplished, he professed to leave to chance.
He would smile his smile, and lift his shoulders in the Spanish way he had learned in Mexico and the Philippines, and say: "That's as luck will have it.

_Quien sabe_ ?" Then he would straightway go about bringing the thing to pass by his own dogged efforts.

Men fell into the habit of calling him Luck, and they forgot that he had any other name; so there you have it, straight and easily understandable.
As luck would have it, then,--and no pun intended, please,--he found himself en route to Dry Lake without any trouble at all; a mere matter of one change of trains and very close connections, the conductor told him.
So Luck went out and found a chair on the observation platform, and gave himself up to his cigar and to contemplation of the country they were gliding through.

What he would find at Dry Lake to make the stop worth his while did not worry him; he left that to the future and to the god Chance whom he professed to serve.

He was doing his part; he was going there to find out what the place held for him.