hitting against one another, he was hailed by Simon Scardale.
"I say, Dick, come in and have a little game of billiards?"
Dick paused and looked at the speaker with a quizzical glance.
"Who's going to play?" he asked.
"Why—er—I—am—for one," replied Simon. "And maybe Guy, here, will take a cue. I'll bet I can beat you, and I'll give you twenty-five points to start with. I'll bet you ten dollars—"
"No, thanks," answered Dick, in rather languid tones, but the sparkle in his brown eyes showed there was more spirit in the words than at first might be apparent. "I don't believe I care to play."
"Afraid I'll beat you!" exclaimed Simon, with a sneer.
"You were very far from doing that the last time you played at my house," retorted Dick, quickly.
"Oh, well, that—er—that was on a table you were used to, and—"
"He's worried about losing the money!" interrupted Guy Fletcher. "Come on, Simon, I'll play you. I'm not afraid of ten dollars, even if my father isn't quite as wealthy as his."
As a matter of fact Guy's father was very far from being as well off as Mr. Hamilton, but Guy took upon himself as much importance, and gave
