friendly and yet so polite, that a certain respect for him began to grow in Hart's mind. He did not hear the conversation that Sprague, a rather hang-dog looking chap, and Kenmore Hollingsworth were having together.
"Oh, he's just drawing him out," Sprague had remarked.
"Looks rather to be giving a lecture on Egyptology," said Hollingsworth, with a contemptuous sneer on his handsome face. "It beats my time what Ray can see in such a countryman as that."
"A bit of fresh material to work on, besides a foot-ball man feels big to-day," said Sprague. "To-morrow night Ray'll probably win all his savings without turning a hair."
"Never'd fease him," replied Hollingsworth, whose speech was a little thick, and whose weary blue eyes had a far-away expression "I say, talking of hands," he went on in a loud voice, with a chuckle, seeing that Danforth was just replacing the shrivelled object on the shelf, "let's throw some, eh?"
"Perhaps Mr. Hart would join us in a little game," said Danforth, in very much the politely even tone in which he might ask a young
