Part 36 (1/2)

”Make it, partner,” said d.i.c.k, but Hertha, frightened at the opportunity, threw down a good hand.

Certainly her partner never lectured her upon her poor plays. He was quite indifferent when she took his Queen with her King, and when in a burst of adventure she doubled her opponent and lost four tricks he proved to her that she had done exactly right. This disaster made her cautious and in the following hand, with four aces, she made it spades and scored eight points instead of a grand slam. When the modest figure was placed below the line her partner cheered her for her success.

”Really, Miss Ogilvie,” Miss Wood said, ”if you want to learn bridge you must not think that a make like that is good. It is quite wrong.”

Hertha laughed acquiescence. She was having a good time and enjoying d.i.c.k's ridiculous talk as hand after hand he kept up a stream of comment. Mrs. Pickens laughed with them, but the fourth member of the party became angry.

”This is not bridge,” she said, her hands shaking as she picked up the cards dealt her.

”Ain't it?” said d.i.c.k good-naturedly. ”Well, it's fun, anyway.”

He took an unconscionably long time to decide on the trump, clutching his cards tightly, and wrinkling his forehead in imitation of his indignant opponent.

”Oh, do make it something!” Mrs. Pickens urged him.

”Very well, hearts!” cried d.i.c.k, ”Hearts, the best suit in the pack.”

He broke into exaggerated praise of the quite ordinary hand Hertha spread out for him. He loved the careful way in which she put each card in sequence.

”The King of my suit!” he cried. ”Didn't I know you had it! Saw it with my poker eye. Ever play poker, Miss Hertha?”

He had asked the question before, and she did not trouble to answer him.

Not that he cared whether he was answered or not. He felt elated at his day and at the evening that was bringing him such good fortune.

Talking steadily as he threw down his cards, he won a finesse, for by this time Miss Wood had lost all track of the game.

”What did I tell you?” he cried to Hertha boisterously. ”This is the time we're going under and over both. Just you wait. Count the tricks!

One, two, three, four, five, six--only four more and the rubber's ours.

Watch me now! Just watch yours truly haul in the goods. Watch me----”

”Oh, stop talking, d.i.c.k,” said Mrs. Pickens good-humoredly, ”and play.”

She was very fond of this southern lad, her one man boarder, and was quite ready herself to frolic. But, seeing the thundercloud on her partner's face, she endeavored to bring some seriousness into the occasion.

”Well, here goes!” cried the young man. ”My trump card!” and he flung down the ace of hearts.

The deuce, tray and four spot fell upon it.

”One, two, three, four!” he called out. ”Kiss the dealer!”

Leaning far over the table, his lips came within an inch of Hertha's own.

She drew back, blus.h.i.+ng crimson, her body stiff with antagonism. Mrs.

Pickens, to relieve the situation, put her arm around the youth's neck and, drawing down his head, gave him the asked-for kiss. But she could not resist murmuring, ”A poor subst.i.tute.”

”Three tricks more,” d.i.c.k called, and dashed through the hand.