"Yes, for goodness' sake don't let us get caught in a blizzard," exclaimed Mrs. Abbot, fearfully. "If there is one thing I'm afraid of it is one of those terrible storms. We have thirty-five miles to go."
The new-comer, Dr. Abbot, smiled at his wife's terrified look, but, as he turned to urge Bill to hurry, there was a slightly anxious look on his face.
"Hurry up, old man. I'll go and see about our sleigh." Then in an undertone, "You can exaggerate a little to persuade them, for the storm is coming on and we must get away at once."
A moment or two later "Lord" Bill and Jacky were making their way to the smoking-room. On the stairs they met "Poker" John. He was returning to the ballroom.
"We were just coming to look for you, uncle," exclaimed Jacky. "They tell us it is blowing outside."
"Just what I was coming to tell you, my dear. We must be going. Where are the doctor and Aunt Margaret?"
"Getting ready," said Bill, quietly. "Have a good game?"
The old man smiled. His bronzed face indicated extreme satisfaction.
"Not half bad, boy—not half bad. Relieved Lablache of five hundred dollars in the last jackpot. Held four deuces. He opened with full on aces."
"Poker" John seemed to have forgotten the past heavy losses, and spoke gleefully of the paltry five hundred he had just scooped in.