“Look here, Carson,” said the stranger affably. “I’ve been thinking this thing over. McQuade used to be an old friend of mine, and I hate to think of his widow and son being left out in the cold. I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll set two thousand dollars against that mortgage you hold.
“If you win, the money’s yours. If the Clippers are beaten, then I get the mortgage. How does that sound?”
“No good,” stated Carson firmly. “The McQuade place is worth a heap more’n that sum, Smith. I got that mortgage cheap.”
The stranger looked disappointed.
“Well,” he remarked, replacing the bill book which he had taken from his inner pocket, “I don’t know that I’m very anxious to bet against the Clippers, anyway. I’d risk the sum for the sake of McQuade’s family, out of pure sentiment, but—— Well, I’ll hang about town and see if I can’t get a bit of money down on your team. After all, it’s safer.”
He rose, with a gesture of dismissal to the constable.
“Hold on!” cried Colonel Carson. “You ain’t in earnest, Smith?”
“Why, of course!” said the stranger. “Merriwell’s team is untried and green. After all, I might be foolish——”
“Set down, set down,” and the colonel reached out to his safe. “I’ve got that mortgage right here. I reckon I’ll take a chance, Smith.”
And once more he grinned to himself.