“No. I want to play you for a stake that will make even your hair stand on end. Will you do it?”
“Certainly. When?”
“That I can’t tell just yet. I have a big scheme on hand. I am to see a man to-day about it. All I want to know is that you promise to play.”
“Pony, this is mysterious. I guess you’re not afraid I will flunk out. I’m ready to meet you on any terms and for any stake.”
“Enough said. I’ll let you know some of the particulars as soon as I find out all I want myself. Good-night.”
“Good-night to you, rather,” said Bert, as Mellish helped him on with his overcoat. “You’ve won the pile: robbing a poor man of his hard- earned gains!”
“Oh, the poor man does not need the money as badly as I do. Besides, I’m going to give you a chance to win it all back again and more.”
When Ragstock had left, Pony still sat by the table absent-mindedly shuffling the cards.
“If I were you,” said Mellish, laying his hand on his shoulder, “I would put that pile in the bank and quit.”
“The faro bank?” asked Pony, looking up with a smile.