ps must
all be out, Cathro. Let us see what all this betting means."

"Right Bower," said the Englishman.

"Ho-ho! stranger," the American cried. "I guess that pound belongs to
Mr. Garsett."

The digger put the Knave of Diamonds on the table, and handed the money
to his florid antagonist.

"Your friend is set back two points, Scarlett." It was Mr. Crewe that
spoke. "England and America divide the pool."

The digger looked up at the Father of Timber Town.

"If you gen'l'men wish to bet on the game, well and good," he said,
somewhat heatedly. "But if you're not game to back your opinion, then
keep your blanky mouths shut!"

Old Mr. Crewe was as nettled at this unlooked-for attack as if a battery
of artillery had suddenly opened upon him.

"Heh! What?" he exclaimed. "You hear that, Cathro? Scarlett, you hear
what your friend says? He wants to bet on the game, and that after being
euchred and losing his pound to Mr. Garsett. Why, certainly, sir. I'll
back my opinion with the greatest pleasure. I'll stake a five-pound note
on it. You'll lose this game, sir."

"Done," said the digger, and he counted out five sovereigns and placed
them in a little heap by themselves.

Mr. Crewe had not come prepared for a "night out with the boys." He
found some silver in his pocket and two pounds in his sovereign-case.

"Hah! no matter," he said. "Cathro, call the landlord. I take your bet,
sir"--to the digger--"most certainly I take it, but one minute, give me
one minute."

"If there's any difficulty in raising the cash," said the digger,
fingering his pile of money, "I won't press the matter. _I_ don't want
your blanky coin. I can easy do without it."

The portly, rubicund landlord of the Lucky Digger entered the room.

"Ah, Townson," said old Mr. Crewe, "good evening. We have a little bet
on, Townson, a little bet between this gentleman from away back and
myself, and I find I'm without the necessary cash. I want five pounds.
I'll give you my IOU."

"Not at all," replied the landlord, in a small high voice, totally
surprising as issuing from such a portly person, "no IOU. I'll gladly
let you have twenty."

"Five is all I want, Townson; and I expect to double it immediately, and
then I shall be quite in funds."

The landlord disappeared and came back with a small tray, on which was a
bundle of bank-notes, some dirty, some clean and crisp. The Father of
Timber Town counted the money. "Twenty pounds, Townson. Very well. Y