The Captain lost, slowly and steadily. Mechanically he went through the motions of dealing, discarding, drawing, and betting, but it was obvious that his mind was not on the game. Jasperson rarely lost a hand, if he had stayed at all, while Professor Larrabee's luck was unpredictable, the pile of chips before him fluctuating, growing or diminishing with startling swiftness.
They were interrupted once when a waiter came in with a tray of bottles and glasses. The Captain refused.
"But one drink won't do you any harm," said Jasperson.
"I never drink in space. For one thing, the rules of the Star Line explicitly forbid it, as you should know."
"Yes, I helped make that rule. That means I can release you from it."
But Evans was firm. "I never drink in space," he repeated. "I'll take two cards—no, make it three."
The professor surveyed his hand with his customary sprightly air.
"I'll play these," he said.
Jasperson discarded. "I'll take one."
Captain Evans languidly opened the betting, but after the first round he dropped out, and only Jasperson and the professor remained. Each raised the other persistently, and while Jasperson grew more and more excited, the professor smiled as usual, his eyes glinting with amusement.