"What are the stakes?"
He drew a handful of money from his pocket, and laid it before him on
the table.
"Don't make an ass of yourself, Felix!" Phil exclaimed angrily,
laying a hand right over the little pile of silver. "We're not
fooling here; we're playing in dead earnest, and you will lose
every cent of your money."
Some of the fellows snickered, and one called out sharply, "Look
out what you're saying, Rose."
I saw the red spots on Fee's cheeks grow brighter. "I _am going_ to
play," he said quietly, but looking Phil steadily in the eyes; "so
please don't interfere."
"Evidently you've never learned that 'consistency is a jewel'!" Phil
retorted with a sneer. I suppose he was thinking of what Fee had said
that evening on the stoop.
But Felix only answered good-naturedly, "Oh, yes, I have; that used to
be one of our copy-book axioms," and then they all began to play.
Well, Phil's face was a study,--it grew blacker and blacker as the game
went on, and Fee kept losing; and he got very disagreeable,--trying to
chaff Felix, almost as if he wanted to make him mad. But Fee just
turned it off as pleasantly as he could. Those fellows made it ever so
much harder, though; they got off the _silliest_ speeches, and then
roared with laughter over them, as if they were jokes.
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