“Cæsar’s ghost!” exclaimed Harmford. “You fellows are plunging too sudden, aren’t you?”
“What’s the use to hold back when we have the right stuff to make a hot start?” chuckled Hanks, his eyes beginning to gleam with greed, although he tried to conceal the look beneath his bushy eyebrows. “I suppose I’m a fool, Arlington, but you’ve got my dander up. I’ll raise you.”
“And I’ll raise you.”
“And I’ll raise you.”
With each raise they pushed chips representing two dollars into the pot, and before cards were drawn the first twenty-five dollars’ worth of ivories had disappeared from the place in front of them. It was Arlington who finally quit boosting.
“Help! help!” gasped Harmford. “This is awful! This is the worst thing I ever saw! Thank goodness, I didn’t get into that mess!”
“Thank goodness I did,” laughed Hanks. “How many cards will you take, Arlington? Harmford is ready to hand them out.”
“You can give them to Hanks, old man,” said Chester. “I don’t think I need any.”
“Well, wouldn’t that bump you!” grinned the Harvard man. “Here I am in precisely the same fix. I don’t need a card.”
Then they stared at each other as if seeking to read an inkling of the truth in the expression of their faces.