A colored boy had followed them into the room, and he had the pins all set up.
At this point Grafter, Phipps, and Fisher appeared, apparently looking round for the visitors. They were surprised and interested when they found out what was taking place.
“Just in time, Grafter!” cried Manton. “Have you plenty of the needful on your person? You know the sort of talk you were making on the veranda a while ago. Here’s the opportunity to part with some of your filthy.”
Grafter was not one to back down. They stepped aside and spoke in low tones.
“Bet you a hundred I beat him this string,” proposed Manton.
Frank knew what was taking place, and he seized the opportunity to say:
“Mr. Grafter, I’m not in my best bowling form, and bowling is not a specialty with me.”
“I’ll go you, Manton,” said Grafter, without paying the least heed to Frank.
The gentleman pugilist smiled with satisfaction.