Those were the last intelligible words for quite a while. For at that instant some resourceful employee jerked a switch, plunging the College Clubbe into darkness. People began to scream and struggle and run. I heard the meaty impact of flesh on flesh, then the clatter of ivory tokens on the polished flooring.
I remember thinking sadly, "Good-bye, Mr. Chips!"
Then a more brilliant thought struck me. I remembered that those ivories were cashable at any time. Tomorrow! After the excitement had died down. I scrambled for the abandoned table, scooped up two double handfuls, then two more. It was our money, rightly.
I hightailed it for the exit. It took me a little time to get away. Everyone else had the same idea. But I finally made it. There was no use looking for Hank in that mob, so I grabbed a taxi to town, hoping he'd be able to come home under his own power.
But he was already home when I got there. He was just finishing a financial census at my desk, dreamily counting crisp, crunchy bills into piles before him.
"—and seventy-eight, eight hundred and seventy-nine—" He saw me and grinned. "Hi, Jim! Got part of what I deserved, anyhow. See? 'Bout six thousan' bucks!"
I sniffed. "Chicken feed! I've got the rest of it. The real stuff! Ten buck chips!"
With a calm, superior smile I began to unload my colorful cargo beside his pile of green. But Hank didn't look enthusiastic. I waited for the ooohs and aaahs, and when none came I snapped,
"Well, what's the matter? You sore because I made out better than you did?"
He shifted uncomfortably and refused to meet my eye. He said,