That afternoon Dick challenged Frank to a game of billiards, and the party assembled in the billiard-room to witness the match.
“Oh, Richard, my boy, you are up against the real thing now,” chirped Ready. “Going to play a hundred points, eight-inch balk? He’ll beat you fifty points, or I’ll eat my hat! But you should see me play! I’m the bird at that game. Why, I’ve often run two points without stopping.”
“I’ll tell you what,” laughed Starbright, his eyes flashing, “let’s play for something to make it interesting. Will you do it?”
“Well, say a thousand dollars,” suggested Ready carelessly. “I’ll offer that sum as a purse. It’s a mere nothing to me.”
“I do not mean that we are to bet on the game,” explained Dick. “But if there were a prize of some sort——”
He paused and looked at Inza.
“Can’t you suggest something?” he asked.
She smiled back at him, and then, roguishly, she said:
“Oh, I might suggest something—if it would be worth struggling for.”
“Name it!” cried Frank and Dick in a breath.