"Oh, come off," smiled Herbert soothingly. "If I had one we could pike around to the baseball games together, and we might be able to pick up a little easy money by betting on them—if we ever found anybody who had the nerve to bet with us. I kept myself supplied with pocket money in that fashion last year. Occasionally made a little something playing poker, but the games were always so small a fellow couldn't do much at them."
"Didn't you ever lose?"
"Well, not very often. I didn't bet to lose."
"I know, but how could you be sure of winning?"
Rackliff winked languidly and wisely. "As I told that chap from Barville, the fellow who bets on sympathy or loyalty is a chump. I always investigate matters pretty thoroughly, and then pick the side I believe has every prospect of winning. Sometimes it's possible to help one team or another along on the quiet. I'd like to know what Newt Copley thinks of the Barville nine. I'd depend on his judgment. I've got a tenner I'd like to set to work to double itself."
"You always have plenty of money," said Roy enviously. "I never had ten whole dollars at one time in my life."
"My poor, poverty-stricken comrade!" murmured Herbert, preparing to light a fresh cigarette. "I sympathize with you. Follow my lead, and you'll wear diamonds."