"Then you and me and Bill here will have a game."
"All right," said Peabody, glad to while away the time.
"What'll you put up on your game, stranger?" asked Bill.
"You don't mean to play for money, do you?" asked Peabody, a little startled.
"Sartain I do. What's the good of playin' for nothing?"
So the young Bostonian, out of his modest pile was tempted to stake an ounce of gold-dust. Though his head was hardly in a condition to follow the game intelligently, he won, or at least Bill and Jack told him he had, and for the first time Lawrence felt the rapture of the successful gambler, as he gathered in his winnings.
"He plays a steep game, Bill," said Jack.
"Tip-top—A No. 1."
"I believe I do play a pretty good game," said the flattered Peabody. "My friends in Boston used to say so."
"You're hard to beat, and no mistake," said Bill. "Try another game."