Osgood counted out another dollar’s worth of chips and received Billy’s money, which he deposited in the handsome chip case. “You’re the right sort after all, Sleuthy,” he smiled. “You’re a good loser. I realize that I haven’t known you very well up to date.” “A man,” said Piper loftily, “should take his losings without squealing.” “What do you mean by that?” snapped Shultz. “Are you knocking me?” “Oh, no—no, not at all,” Piper hastened to disclaim, aware that the fellow’s bad fortune had aroused his belligerent nature. “Because if you are,” warned the ruffled gamester, “you’d better cut it out. I don’t like it, and I won’t stand for it.” “Oh, come, Charley,” protested Osgood; “don’t be so raw. I’ve seen you lose twice as much without growling.” “But I can’t afford to lose to-night,” was the retort. “I’m not very flush, and my old man thinks I’m blowing too much geldt, anyhow. That’s the worst of having a close-fisted father. If I were in your shoes, Ned, I could stand a loss; but you’re usually lucky, and you seldom quit behind the game.” “I’ve been having a streak, that’s all,” explained Osgood. “Luck runs that way occasionally, but it usually turns in time. You fellows will get into me if you keep at it; you’re sure to.” Hooker, likewise a loser, was keeping quiet and attending strictly to business. Unlike Shultz, he had not shown an inclination to force his luck, and doubtless he was waiting for his turn to come. Springer was also slightly behind, while Cooper was a small winner and therefore cheerful. The large pile of chips in front of Osgood denoted how the game was running. With the suspicion that was characteristic of him, Piper had watched Osgood’s playing closely to discover, if possible, whether or not Ned was winning legitimately, and he had arrived at the conclusion that there was nothing underhanded about it. Moreover, he was falling beneath the subtle spell of the young fellow’s influence, which had been so strangely felt by others. Surely Ned was a whole-souled, genial chap that any one might be proud to claim as a friend; surely Nelson’s suspicions were unfounded; not a word concerning baseball or the management of the team had been spoken by any of these lads since Sleuth entered the room. It was Hooker’s turn to deal, and Roy tossed the pasteboards around. Piper, picking up his hand, was surprised and delighted to find it contained two pairs, aces up, and while he was secretly congratulating himself Osgood chipped. “Come on, Mr. Good Loser,” invited Shultz. “What are you going to do? Play faster. You make the game drag.” “Oh, I’ll come in,” said Sleuth, “and I think—I think I’ll raise it.” “What do you know a-bub-bub-bout that!” exclaimed Springer. “Sleuth is plunging! Well, he can’t frighten me; I’ll peg along.” “Oh, let’s make it interesting,” said Shultz, tossing several chips into the middle of the board. “I’ll boost it some more.”