"It's about time for Lionel Moore to make his appearance," said one of
the two companions, glancing at the clock.
"I would rather have anybody else, if it comes to that," said the other,
peevishly. "Moore spoils the game all to bits. You never know where to
have him--"
"Yes, that's just where he finds his salvation," continued he of the
toothpick. "Mind you, that wild play has its advantages. He gets caught
now and again, but he catches you at times. You make sure he is
bluffing, you raise him and raise him, then you call him--and find he
has three aces! And I will say this for Moore--he's a capital loser. He
doesn't seem to mind losing a bit, so long as you keep on. You would
think he was a millionaire; only a millionaire would have an eye on
every chip, I suppose. What salary do they give him at the New Theatre?"
[Illustration: "_He threw his arms on the table before him, and hid his
face_"]
"Fifty pounds a week, I've heard say; but people tell such lies. Even
fifty pounds a week won't hold out if he goes on like that. What I
maintain is that it isn't good poker. For one thing, I object to
'straddling' altogether; it's simply a stupid way of raising the stakes;
of course, the straddler has the advantage of coming in last, but then
look at the disadvantage of having to bet first.
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