noise subsided.

He opened the door and stepped inside. A half-dozen young fellows were
scattered about, but as he knew none of them, except by name, he
ignored their presence and walked directly up to Richards.

"I've come on business," he said; "can I speak with you a moment?"

"Sure!" Richards removed his feet from a chair, kicking it at the
same time toward his visitor. "These fellows know more about my
business now than I do myself, so get it off of your chest, Chester."

The company laughed, but Chester remained wholly unmoved.

"All right," said he, calmly. "You're in the Marathon: want to risk
anything on it?"

Up went Richards' feet once more, this time to a table. He winked
broadly at his friends, and replied with an air of vast carelessness,

"Why--yes; I don't mind. Guess I can cover you."

"How much?" demanded Chester. "Odds even, mind."

"I said I'd cover you, didn't I?" with some warmth. Richards fumbled
in his trousers pockets, extracting therefrom a handful of loose
change.

Chester advanced to the table. At sight of his roll of bills a sudden
silence fell. All eyes were glued upon them while he counted.

"Five--ten--fifteen"--and so on, up to one hundred. He stowed the
remaining five back in his pocket, pushed the pile into the middle of
the table and looked coolly down at his host. Said he,

"One hundred, even, that I win the Marathon. Cover, or show these
fellows the sort of piker you are."

And Richards came very near to showing them. His face was a study. He
hadn't ten dollars to his name; he was painfully aware of the fact,
and here were these six boys who would know it too in about two
seconds. He was rattled, and sat looking at the pile of bills as
though charmed. He racked his brain for some way out of the
predicament, but the only thing he could think of was to wonder
whether the portrait on the top note was that of Hendricks or Rufus
Choate. "It can't be Choate," suddenly occurred to him. "But then
it--"

There was a laugh in the back of the room. Richards stood up. A dozen
fire alarms would not have recalled him so quickly. Whatever else
might be said of the man he was game, and now his gameness showed.

"Give me an hour; I'll meet you then in front of the postoffice."
While speaking he had gotten into his coat; now he walked toward the
door. "Amuse yourselves while I'm gone, fellows," he said, and
disappeared down the stairway.

Chester replaced the notes in his pocket,