The hotel clerk had stepped from behind the desk, greatly interested by what was taking place. Badger made a motion toward him, observing:
“Put up your stuff, my bluffing friend. Mr. Curtis will hold it. You’re still keeping your paws on the long green, ready to squeal when your bluff is called.”
“Oh, ham I?” sneered Hollingsworth, as he hastily counted out a hundred, which took nearly the whole of his pile. “We’ll see habout that. ’Ere it goes hup in his ’ands. Now, if you’re not a blooming squawker yourself, let’s see you cover it. I’m betting Frank Merriwell will be barred from the race.”
Badger now hastily produced a roll of bills, from the outside of which he stripped two fifties.
“It’s like finding money,” he chuckled, as he handed the hundred to the clerk. “That’s whatever!”
“It’s like finding it for me,” said Hollingsworth.
“Oh, I don’t know!” laughed Buck.
It was true he did not know what had happened in Frank Merriwell’s room while Merry was absent.
Hollingsworth left the hotel in a well-satisfied frame of mind. He could not refrain from chuckling aloud as he sauntered along the street.
“Well, this has been a good day for me,” he muttered. “I’ve made two hundred dollars—or a hundred and ninety-five, taking out the fiver I had to give the boy. Oh, there’ll be a rumpus when Merriwell and his blooming, insolent friend finds out what has happened. It’s too late for him to get a duplicate certificate, even if he should find out without delay what has happened. It’s a sure thing for me. I’m a clever one!”