“That’s right!”
“Quit it!”
“Choke off!”
“It’s getting tiresome!”
These exclamations came from various persons, and Darleton’s friend closed up at once.
Morton looked both provoked and disgusted.
“This is what the Darleton crowd is bringing us to,” he said, addressing Frank, in a low tone. “They have formed a clique and introduced the first jarring element into the club. In the end they’ll all get fired out on their necks.”
Frank and Morton sat down in a corner by one of the round card tables.
“I don’t mind Darleton’s talk,” protested Hugh, “for I reckon him as a big case of bluff. You called him last night, and he’s sore over it. Usually he makes his bluffs go at poker. He’ll find he can’t always make a bluff go in real life.”
“You say he is a clever poker player.”