"Didn't you never hear about the killin' he made at
Saratoga?" he queried.
Willie started, and his hand crept slowly backward along his
belt. "Killin'! Is that his game?"
"Now, get me right," explained the former speaker. "He breaks
trainin', and goes up to Saratoga for a little rest. While he's
there he wins eight thousand dollars playin' diabolo."
"Playin' what?" queried Stover.
"Diabolo! He backs himself, of course."
Glass took an imaginary spool from his pocket, spun it by means
of an imaginary string, then sent it aloft and pretended to catch
it dexterously. The cowboys watched him with grave,
uncomprehending eyes.
"He starts with a case five and runs it up to eight thousand
dollars, that's all."
Stover uttered an exclamation of astonishment, whereupon the New-
Yorker grew even bolder.
"The next week he hops over to Bar Harbor and wins the Furturity
Ping-pong stakes from scratch. That's worth twenty thousand if
it's worth a lead nickel. Oh, I guess he's there, all right!" He
searched out a match and relighted his pipe.
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