“I s’pose I’ll have to go, shan’t I?” he asked.
“Oh, Jeff, and leave us alone!” Uncle Zach said, with so much genuine sorrow in his voice that Jeff began to waver.
“I’d like to stay here first rate,” he said, “and I’d like Chicago, too. I’ll tell you what we’ll do, you and I. We’ll toss up a cent five times. I first, you second, and so on. If heads win, I go to Chicago; if tails win, I stay here. Do you agree?”
He drew a big, old-fashioned penny from his pocket and gave it a smart twirl with his thumb and second finger.
“Heads!” he said; “but this don’t count. We haven’t begun yet. Do you agree?”
“I hain’t tossed a cent since I was a boy,” Uncle Zach replied.
“Let me show you,” Jeff said, fixing the copper in place on Uncle Zach’s fingers. “You hold it so; give it a snap, so; that’s right; off she goes; heads again. But we hain’t commenced. You are not quite up to the trick yet, and I want it fair.”
Three or four more trials were made and then the game began which was to decide Jeff’s fate in more ways than one. Mrs. Taylor was as much interested as either her husband or Jeff and looked on breathlessly at the fall of the penny from Jeff’s hand.
“Heads!” he said, as he picked it up and handed it to Mr. Taylor, who threw it up with some trepidation and anxiety.
“Tails!” Jeff cried, examining the coin. “Even so far. Here goes the third toss. Heads again! Your turn now. Let me fix it for you,” he continued, adjusting the coin to Mr. Taylor’s hand, which shook so he could scarcely hold it. “Let ’er slide!” he said, and the penny went rattling to the floor at some distance from them both.