"Sixty-six!" they all exclaimed together; and great inquiries were immediately made for the missing ticket. But nobody knew any thing about it. At last, Mr. Chauncy's companion, Charles, who happened to be there, said,—
"Why, Chauncy had 66, I believe." Then calling out aloud to Mr. Chauncy, who had come up on the deck after luncheon, and was now sitting on one of the settees that stood around the skylight, he added,—
"Chauncy! here! come here! Where is your ticket? You have got the prize."
"No," said Mr. Chauncy, in a careless tone, without, however, moving from his seat. "I have not any ticket."
Two or three of the gentlemen, then, headed by Charles, went to the place where Mr. Chauncy was sitting, to question him more particularly.
"Where's your ticket?" said Charles.
"I gave it to one of the deck passengers," said Mr. Chauncy.
"You did!" said Charles. "Well, it has drawn the prize. What was the number of it?"
"Ninety-nine, I believe," said Mr. Chauncy.
"Ninety-nine!" repeated Charles, contemptuously. "Nonsense! There was no ninety-nine. It was sixty-six."