Len
says all right, how much does she want to risk? And that scares her
plumb stiff again, in spite of her uncanny powers. She says it wouldn't
be right to risk one cent unless she could be sure the number was going
to win.
Of course if you made your claim on the Universal, your own was bound to
come to you; still, you couldn't be so sure as you ought to be with a
roulette wheel, because several times the ball had gone into numbers
that she wasn't holding for with her psychic grip, and the uncertainty
was killing her; and why didn't he say something to help her, instead of
standing there silent and letting their little home slip from her grasp?
Cousin Egbert comes up just then, still happy and puffed up; so I put
him wise to this Wales conspiracy against his game.
"Mebbe you can win back that lot from her," I says, "and raffle it over
again for the fund. She's getting worked up to where she'll take a
chance."
"Good work!" says he. "I'll approach her in the matter."
So over he goes and tries to interest her in the dice games; but no, she
thinks dice is low and a mere coloured person's game.
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