"And this is Mr. Skinner, no doubt?" Wally shook hands with the
Centipede runner, who stared at him, refused to recognize his
knowing wink, and turned away. "You think pretty well of
yourself, don't you?" suggested Gallagher unpleasantly, and Speed
laughed. There was no reason why he should not laugh. Either way
his hour had come.
"I s'pose that satchel is full of money?" Gallagher pointed to
the suitcase.
"On the contrary, it is full of clothes. It is I who contain the
money." He thrust a cold palm into his pocket as Covington
dragged him aside to advise him not to be an utter idiot, to
throw his money away if he must, but to throw it to charity or to
his friends.
"Yes," Glass seconded, lugubriously, "and hold out enough to buy
me a _Gates Ajar_ in immortelles." But he said also, as if
to himself, "He may be wrong in the burr, but he's a game little
guy."
As the Centipede foreman counted the money, Helen came forward,
announcing:
"You'll _have_ to win now, won't you, Mr. Speed? I've
wagered five hundred dollars on you.
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