“Thanky, Steve. I wish you would,” said old Dick.
Soon after the boy returned, and close behind him came Sam. Looking round, and seeing old Slippery and nearly all the boys still there, he asked, “What’s up? Want to double the bet, Dick? If so, you can be accommodated.”
Steve, pretending to side with old Dick, explained that the old man had forgotten a particular engagement and had to go away for some days. As accidents might happen, he thought it would be better to cancel the bets and arrange a fresh match later on.
But Sam took it badly, angrily demanding what sort of idiot they took him for. “Draw bets? Not much!” he cried. “I’ll double it, if you like.”
Then he turned upon Dick Small, who was looking mighty miserable. “You old rascal,” he went on, “I know what it is—you’re afraid you’ll lose your money. Serve you right! You wanted to back your old mare, didn’t you? No one asked you to. Draw bets, you say? No, siree, not by a jugful!”
“Look here, Sam,” said Steve, “don’t be too hard. You think you’ve got a sure thing, but accidents might happen even on your side. Why don’t you two compromise? Supposing Dick allows you something for your trouble and sets up drinks for the crowd?”
“What do you mean by a compromise?” demanded Sam. “If Dick forfeits half his bet, that would be about fair, I should say.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that, really,” cried old Slippery, in great distress.
“Very well,” said Sam, “then the bet stands. Good-bye; I’m busy.”
“Hold on a bit,” put in Steve, and, drawing the old man aside, he whispered to him for a minute or two. You should have seen the different emotions which chased over old Dick’s face! At last, however, he seemed to agree with Steve; and then Steve, addressing the crowd, told us that he quite understood the matter. The proposition he had to make was that Dick should pay Sam ten dollars and stand a double treat round for the crowd. If the boys now present considered that fair, he added, he thought Sam, as a sportsman, should accept.