“Almost every night.”
“What game?”
“Poker. He is an expert. I’ll tell you something about it later. He’s looking this way.”
Darleton sauntered over.
“I presume you are quite elated about your victory over me, Merriwell?” he said unpleasantly.
“Oh, not at all,” answered Merry, annoyed. “It was not anything to feel elated about.”
“You are right,” said Darleton. “If we were to meet again to-night the result would be quite different. I confess that you gave me a surprise; but I was in my very poorest form last night. I am confident it would be a simple matter for me to defeat you if we fenced again.”
“Want of conceit does not seem to be one of your failings.”
The fellow flushed.
“I presume you are one of those perfect chaps with no failings,” he retorted. “At least, you are, in your own estimation. You are very chesty since you secured the decision over me.”