"Have you got a roll?"
"Yes."
"A good sized one? for we want to give them a good bait."
Desmond was playing his part of the game well—very well—his whole manner was right up to the mark—indeed, he did a fine piece of acting. He pulled out a roll of bills, pretended to dispute with the sharp, and suddenly exclaimed:
"I'll bet you a hundred."
"No, no, young fellow, I don't bet," said the sharp. "I know I am right, I'd only be robbing you."
"I won't let you rob me; I am up to what I say."
The youth put an emphasis on his words which the sharp did not notice; he thought he had such a sure thing, he was not looking for a false "steer." Desmond saw the glitter, however, in the sharp's eyes at the sight of the roll, for it looked like a big pile of money, and the sharp appeared to feel, as indicated in his face, that the pile was already his own.
"By ginger!" he said, "you are a dandy; you can play this game right up, but don't be too anxious or you will scare those fellows off; just take it easy, let them lead you on."
"Oh, I know how to work; don't you forget I am a Yorker."