"I'll play you," said Robin. "The other fellows can sort themselves out as they like."
Osbody whispered something to Vinns, who casually dropped into a chair opposite Allan a Dale. This was a pre-arranged plan, for "Professor" Vinns was as weirdly clever at board-games as he was at mathematics, and all Allan a Dale's skill proved powerless to prevent him winning. Their game lasted longest, but the result was never in doubt. Allan, the hope of the Merry Men, was cornered and beaten.
No sum of subtraction was needed to reckon the tally in favour of the Squirms. They had won every game but two drawn ones, Osbody having failed to beat Robin, and Grain having found in Will Scarlet an opponent too tough to knock out.
"Something like an evening's sport," commented Osbody.
"Most enjoyable," murmured Niblo.
These happy meetings ought to become a permanent feature," said "Professor" Vinns, beaming over his glasses at his crestfallen opponent.
"I beg to differ," said Robin. "Not in an atmosphere like this, anyhow. Phew! I can scarcely breathe! I vote we have all the windows open, chaps; the place is like a furnace."
Some of the Merry Men ran at once to the window-cords, but Osbody violently protested.
"Windows open be hanged!" he cried. "It's freezing outside. There's a sea-breeze that cuts like a knife. We should all get our deaths of cold."
"Rubbish!" retorted Robin. "Fresh air never harmed anyone. Better to shiver than be baked alive. I feel like a bread-loaf in an oven."