“I think Mr. Paine does not need lessons from any one,” she said. “He seems to be holding his own very well.”
“But he's frightened, all the same. Come, Paine, own up now. You know you are frightened, don't you?”
“Not very,” I answered, truthfully.
“So? Then you aren't as sensible as you ought to be. A wise man knows when to be scared. Let's make a little bet on it. I'll bet you two to one that I'll own that land of yours inside of six months.”
I shook my head. “I never bet on certainties,” I declared. “I should be ashamed to collect my winnings.”
This seemed to amuse them both, for they both laughed.
“Father,” said Miss Colton, “I am afraid you don't learn by experience. You have lost one bet already, you know.”
“That's so. And I haven't paid it yet, either. I must, or you'll be telling every one that I am a poor sport. Paine, this young lady bet me a new pipe against a box of gloves that you wouldn't—”
“Father,” broke in the young lady, herself, “stop.”
“Oh, all right, all right. Just as you say. But I tell you this, Paine; SHE hasn't any scruples against betting on certainties.”