"They must be crazy!"
Farrell shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. Anyway, you have a choice. You can bet the thousand dollars or a certain amount of duchal."
"If we bet duchal and lost, we'd only have to pay the Martians a little ... sensation of agony at losing the game?"
"Right."
Tharp laughed. "Hell, let's bet duchal. That'd be better than losing a thousand bucks if we should lose the game." He slipped his hand into a pocket and the cloth bulged in Farrell's direction. "And we'd better win!"
What's the difference? Farrell thought. If we win or lose, you'll kill me. You can't leave me alive to report you to the police!
"You can play the game," Farrell suggested. "I'll tell you what buttons to push."
"Okay. Tell the Martians we want to bet an amount of duchal worth five thousand. How much would that be on the dial on that gimmick?"
Farrell pointed at the graduation to the extreme right of the dial. "See that line? That would be worth five thousand in duchal. The same amount the Martian bet."
Tharp smiled as he remembered how easily the Martian gambler had paid that amount of duchal. If they lost the game, he'd have no trouble paying the gambling debt.