“Better take one; you’ll seem twice the man if you smoke that you will if you don’t.”
The box of cigars had been passed around to all, and each of the other boys had taken one, but Max steadily refused.
“My father says it is very injurious to boys, and will stunt their growth,” he gave as a reason; adding, with a laugh, “and it’s my ambition to be as tall as he is, and like him in every way.”
“Very right,” remarked Frank, “but do you mind the smoke?”
“Oh no, not at all.”
But the next minute he saw something that he did mind. A table was drawn into the middle of the room and a pack of cards and a bottle of wine produced from some hiding-place and set upon it, while Chester invited them all to draw up their chairs and have a glass and a game.
The others accepted without hesitation, but Max rose and, with burning cheeks and fast-beating heart, uttered a protest.
“Oh, you can’t be going to drink and gamble, surely! What would Uncle Horace say if he knew such things were going on in his house?”
“No, my son,” said Chester, laughingly, “we’re not going to do either; we’ll not play for money, so it won’t be gambling, and the wine isn’t strong enough to make a fellow drunk; no, nor anywhere near it. So you needn’t be afraid to join us.”
“No, thank you,” returned Max firmly. “I can not think it right or safe to drink even wine, or to play cards, whether you put up a stake or not.”