Their eyes met. The Frenchman permitted a sneer to steal across his
face, while Frank looked at him steadily till his eyes dropped.
At a glance, Merry saw that Bloodgood was "shakey." The fellow had been
growing worse and worse as the voyage progressed, and now he seemed on
the verge of a break-down.
A few minutes after entering the room Frank heard one of the spectators
whisper to another that Bloodgood was "bulling the game," and had lost
heavily.
Bloodgood was drinking deeply. Mr. Slush seemed to be indulging rather
freely. The Frenchman sipped a little wine now and then, and the
Englishman drank at regular intervals.
The Frenchman was perfectly cool. The Englishman was phlegmatic. Slush
hesitated sometimes, but, to the surprise of the boys, seemed rather
collected. Bloodgood was hot and excited.
Frank took a position where he could look on. He watched every move.
After a time he discerned that the Englishman and the Frenchman were
playing to each other, although the trick was done so skillfully that it
did not seem apparent.
Bloodgood lost all his chips. The game was held up for a few moments. He
stepped into the next room and returned with a fresh supply.
"This is the bottom," he declared. "You people may have them as soon as
you like. To blazes with them! Let's lift the limit."
"Ah--er--let's throw it off--entirely," suggested Mr.
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