"Perhaps all the games are made up," he suggested. "Saturday is a bad day, unless your match is arranged beforehand."
"Zat so? Humph! Nice clubby spirit you have here. You make a fellow feel so much at home!"
"So we notice," grunted Billford.
Ambrose looked at him and smiled. It wasn't exactly a pleasant smile. Then he turned back to Harson.
"How about that fourth man of yours?" he demanded. "Has he shown up yet?"
Billford caught my eye.
"Some one must have left the outside door open," said he. "Seems to me I feel a strong draught."
"Put on another shirt!" Ambrose shot the retort without an instant's hesitation. "Now say, if your fourth man isn't here, what's the matter with me?"
"Possibly there is nothing the matter with you," said Harson pleasantly; "but if you are a beginner——"
"Aw, you don't need to be afraid of my game!" grinned Ambrose. "I'll be easy picking."