“I will. Did you?”
“Oh, sure! One game out of three! Talk about luck! Say, that fellow couldn’t miss to-night if he tried!”
“Sometimes, I think, he does try,” murmured Bert.
“What?” Then, as Bert didn’t repeat the observation, he continued disgustedly: “I had him thirty-one to six on the last game and he went out without a break! The balls just rolled everywhere he wanted them to, the lucky stiff! Gee, it would make you sick!”
“Did you bet with him?”
“Naturally. And lost, too.”
“How much?”
“Plenty,” answered Chick briefly. “But I’ll get it back, don’t you worry. He’s had luck for a week now, but it can’t keep up all the time, and I’ll sure make a killing soon. He certainly got my goat to-night, though!”
“Tough luck,” murmured Bert. “Well, good night.”
“Not so blamed good,” Chick growled.