“Here! What you doin’?” he shouted, catching Old Bill by the arm. “Put that dollar back on the table.”
“What _for_? Why, we’re goin’ to play for it again. Here’s two dollars against it I beat you on the next hand.”
“No,” said Old Bill calmly. “It’s worth more than two dollars to me. It’s worth five.”
“Well, five then,” his host returned. “I want that dollar!”
“So do I,” said Collinson. “I’ll put in five dollars if you do.”
“Anybody else in?” Old Bill inquired, dropping the coin on the table; and all of the others again “came in.” Old Bill won again; but once more Charlie Loomis prevented him from putting the silver dollar in his pocket.
“Come on now!” Mr. Loomis exclaimed. “Anybody else but me in on this for five dollars next time?”
“I am,” said Collinson, swallowing with a dry throat; and he set forth all that remained to him of his twelve dollars. In return he received a pair of deuces, and the jubilant Charlie won.
He was vainglorious in his triumph. “Didn’t that little luck piece just keep on tryin’ to find the right man?” he cried, and read the inscription loudly. “‘Luck hurry back to me!’ Righto! You’re home where you belong, girlie! Now we’ll settle down to our reg’lar little game again.”
“Oh, no,” said Old Bill. “You wouldn’t let me keep it. Put it out there and play for it again.”
“I want my luck piece back myself,” said Smithie. “Put it out and play for it. You made Old Bill.”
“Yes, you will,” Collinson said, and he spoke without geniality. “You put it out there.”
“Oh, yes, I will,” Mr. Loomis returned mockingly. “I will for ten dollars.”
“Not I,” said Old Bill. “Five is foolish enough.” And Smithie agreed with him. “Nor me!”
“All right, then. If you’re afraid of ten, I keep it. I thought the ten’d scare you.”
“Put that dollar on the table,” Collinson said. “I’ll put ten against it.”
There was a little commotion among these mild gamesters; and someone said, “You’re crazy, Collie. What do you want to do that for?”
“I don’t care,” said Collinson. “That dollar’s already cost me enough, and I’m going after it.”
“Well, you see, I want it, too,” Charlie Loomis retorted cheerfully; and he appealed to the others. “I’m not askin’ him to put up ten against it, am I?”
“Maybe not,” Old Bill assented. “But how long is this thing goin’ to keep on? It’s already balled our game all up, and if we keep on foolin’ with these side bets, why, what’s the use?”