“I say he did.”
“I’ll swear he didn’t.”
“You lie, old Gingles!” said the other, who was called Alick, and a notorious card-sharper.
As he spoke, he struck the table violently.
“I tell you I did win the game—the money is mine.”
“Lay a hand on that gold, and I’ll knock you down, you cheating old scamp!” said Alick, in a terrible rage. “The money is mine.”
“It is not. I’ll leave it to any gentleman in the room.”
“Alick won it fairly,” said a chorus of voices.
“No, old Gingles is entitled to the money. He could beat Alick all night.”
“Could he?”