fe," said Jimmy, leaning forward.
The balls had been left in an ideal position. Even Hargate could not
fail to make a cannon. He made it.
A close finish to even the worst game is exciting. Jimmy leaned
still further forward to watch the next stroke. It looked as if
Hargate would have to wait for his victory. A good player could have
made a cannon as the balls lay, but not Hargate. They were almost in
a straight line, with, white in the center.
Hargate swore under his breath. There was nothing to be done. He
struck carelessly at white. White rolled against red, seemed to hang
for a moment, and shot straight back against spot. The game was
over.
"Great Scott! What a fluke!" cried the silent one, becoming quite
garrulous at the miracle.
A quiet grin spread itself slowly across Jimmy's face. He had
remembered what he had been trying to remember for over a week.
At this moment, the door opened, and Saunders appeared. "Sir Thomas
would like to see your lordship in his study," he said.
"Eh? What does he want?"
"Sir Thomas did not confide in me, your lordship."
"Eh? What? Oh, no! Well, see you later, you men."
He rested his cue against the table, and put on his coat. Jimmy
followed him out of the door, which he shut behind him.
"One second, Dreever," he said.
"Eh? Hullo! What's up?"
"Any money on that game?" asked Jimmy.
"Why, yes, by Jove, now you mention it, there was. An even fiver.
And--er--by the way, old man--the fact is, just for the moment, I'm
frightfully--You haven't such a thing as a fiver anywhere about,
have you? The fact is--"
"My dear fellow, of course. I'll square up with him now, shall I?"
"Fearfully obliged, if you would. Thanks, old man. Pay it
to-morrow."
"No hurry," said Jimmy; "plenty more in the old oak chest."
He went back to the room. Hargate was practising cannons. He was on
the point of making a stroke when Jimmy opened the door.
"Care for a game?" said Hargate.
"Not just at present," said Jimmy.
Hargate attempted his cannon, and failed badly. Jimmy smiled.
"Not such a good shot as the last," he said.
"No."
"Fine shot, that other."
"Fluke."
"I wonder."
Jimmy lighted a cigarette.
"Do you know New York at all?" he asked.
"Been there."
"Ever been in the Strollers' Club?"
Hargate turned his back, but Jimmy had seen his face, and was
satisfied.
"Don't know it," said Hargate.
"Great place," said Jimmy. "Mostly actors and writers
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