“All right, sir. But don’t you see?”
“Yes, I see; it’s right enough, Orthur, when you win; but I look at the risks.”
“Warn’t much risk over that last flutter, sir. Put down five shillings a-piece and took up each of us a tenner.”
“Yes, Orthur, that was very nice; but it mightn’t always happen so.”
“Why not, sir? They always win, and all we have to do is to back the same as they do—take their tips, and it’s as safe as safe.”
“H’m! Well, they do always seem to win, Orthur,” said the butler, slowly, and he indulged in a pinch of snuff as he stood on the step.
“Seem, sir? They do. I believe if it warn’t for the odds they’d be as poor as church mice.”
“But how are we to get the tips, my son?”
“Keep our ears open when we’re waiting table, sir, or another way.”
“The same as you got that last one?”