"Get your winnin' color."
Suddenly Stover saw a headline—his name and the caption:
STOVER THE WEAK SPOT
"Let's get a paper," he said, nervously drawn to it.
"No you don't," said Regan, who had seen it. "Come on, now, get out of here, some one might walk on your foot or stick a hatpin in your eye."
"What time is it?"
"Time to be getting back."
"Tom, do you know how much I weigh?" said Stover irrelevantly.
"What the deuce?"
"I weigh one hundred and forty-one pounds," said Stover solemnly, as though imparting a State secret.