"I don't wonder. What I was going to say was that you would box them in the slips. You know, if we all buck up----" We bucked up and outed them by the end of the day for two hundred and fifty. CHAPTER III GOOD SHOOTING "Will somebody give me a cigarette," said Myra, stretching out a hand. "I fancy not," I said. "Thomas and I both feel that you are too young." "I don't really want one, but when I'm locked up in the billiard-room with two dumb men----" "We were reflecting on our blessed victory." "Were you thinking of Archie's century or John's bowling?" "Neither, oddly enough. I was recalling my own catch which won the match. Poetry; let's go and tell Simpson." "It was a skier," said Myra. "I thought it was never coming down. What did you think of all the time?" "Everything. All my past life flashed before my eyes. I saw again my happy childhood's days, when I played innocently in the--er--pantry. I saw myself at school, sl--working. I saw----" "Did you happen," interrupted Thomas, when we both thought he was fast asleep, "to see yourself being badly taken on by me at billiards?" "Thomas, you're not properly awake, old friend. I know that feeling. Turn over on the other side and take a deep breath." Thomas rose and stretched himself, and went over to the cue rack. "You should have heard him siding about his blessed billiards this morning," he told Myra. "I didn't side. I simply said that anybody could beat Thomas. Do they play billiards much at the Admiralty? I should have thought the motion----" "Take a cue. Myra will mark." "Rather; I can mark like anything." "Once upon a time," I said, "there was a lad who wanted to get into the Admiralty. But his mother said, 'Not until you have learnt to swim, Thomas.' So he had a set of six private lessons for one guinea before he went in for the examination. He came out thirty-eight, and was offered a lucrative appointment in the post office.... Hence his enormous skill at billiards. Thick or clear?" "I will adventure half-a-crown upon the game," said Thomas, giving a miss. "Right O, Rothschild. Now, are you ready, marker? I'm spot. Hadn't you better oil the board a bit? Well, as long as you can work it quickly enough." I took careful aim, and my ball went up the table and back again, with the idea, I imagine, of inspecting the wicket. It seemed quite fast. "One all," said Myra, and Thomas kindly brought his ball and mine to the top of the table. "I fancy I shall be able to swerve from this end," I said. I tried a delicate cannon, and just missed the object ball. "I shall find a spot directly--there's one under the red ball, I believe." "Do try and hit something," said Myra. "The marker is not allowed to give advice," I said sternly. "What's the matter, Thomas?" "I'm not quite sure what to do." "I think you ought to chalk your cue here," I said, after examining the position. "I've done that." "Then ram the red."