She tripped along in such a funny, affected manner that the newspaper man could not help smiling, though of course he hid that fact. For Edwards was a much larger man than he was, and he thought that a blow from one of those bony fists would make a ghost of him too. And he was not hankering after immortality just then. The old maid emptied out all the beans, and they sorted the different colors into different piles. Edwards counted them and divided them all around into equal parts. Then he produced the cards and said: “We must have something to represent money and these beans—” “Oh!” cried the sparrow ghost, “we must not bet. It is wicked to bet.” “Then you cannot learn to play poker,” replied he. “I don’t see why,” responded she pugnaciously. “All right. Have it your own way. You will have to give up your poker lesson right now, for the betting is all there is to it.” There was a whole chorus of exclamation from the rest. The old maid ghost said that after so much trouble had been taken, and as none of the rest had any scruples against betting beans, she did not see why the rest could not go on, and Mrs. Fogg stay out. The big gambler waited with what patience he could muster, for the game had little zest to him without money. He put the pack of cards back somewhere in his shroud and waited. On seeing this the other five took an anxious cry that he must not desert them. Quiet was restored on the promise that the betting with the beans should be regarded solely in a Pickwickian sense. So the beans were distributed. The black beans stood for fifty cents each, and the white ones for a dollar each, and the big red ones for five dollars. “That is high enough for beginners, isn’t it?” asked the old lady benignly. The big professional gambler took a severe fit of coughing and shook so hard that the newspaper man thought surely he would fall in pieces, but he rallied and said: “Now, ladies, I deal you each five cards. Your object will be to see how many of a kind you can get together.” “What kind?” asked the sparrow woman. “Why, two aces, or three deuces, trays, fours or face cards all the way up. Aces are the highest.” “Which one?” asked the little woman. “Higher than a ten?” asked the widow. “I said the ace is the highest card in the pack,” replied he. “That is not answering the question, sir. I wish to know which one.” “Oh, any one,” answered the man wearily. “But I can't see how four aces can all be the highest,” said the sparrow. “I mean that they all count higher than any other card. After ace comes king, then queen, then jack, then ten and so on. Four aces make the best hand except a royal flush or straight. Two of a kind are good, three better, four best. I will explain the rest as we go along. Now I deal you each five cards—” “You said that before,” remarked one of the ghosts. “So I did. Now you must decide upon your limit.” “I have five cards. I thought you said that was the limit,” said she of the pretty teeth.