Amusement Only Part 50

"It strikes me that you and I might shake hands, sir."

I asked him what he meant.

"I've made myself one kind of a.s.s, and you've made yourself another kind. We'd be a pair of beauties."

I did not like being addressed in this manner, especially by a stranger, and especially by a stranger like this stranger. He was a short, undersized man, with a vacuous expression of countenance. His attire suggested seediness. Perceiving that I did not appreciate his manner, he explained.

"No offence intended, sir. But I just now saw you playing pantaloon to that youngster's clown, and I thought that he made the end of the poker rather hot. As for me, I'm an a.s.s all over. My name's Johns. I came to this place to shear the sheep. There's been some shearing, but it's the sheep that's done it. They've about sheared me. I happened to have a trifle of money, so I came to these parts to see if I could do a bit of bookmaking. I've done a bit. The gentlemen in these parts have also done a bit. They've got hold of pretty well every blessed mag I had."

I did not encourage Mr. Johns; quite the contrary. I had heard of him before. The regimental races had recently been held; a bookmaker had appeared upon the scene--Mr. Johns. Nearly every man in the place had had bets with him, and to nearly every man in the place he had lost his money. With a vengeance had the Philistine been spoiled.

CHAPTER II.

THE GAME.

Later in the day on which I had shot off that match with Mr. Tebb I encountered Mr. Johns again. I was in the billiard-room of what was called "the club." As regards membership, it was very free-and-easy "club" indeed. A local celebrity was taking the floor. The room was tolerably full. On one of the side seats was Mr. Johns.

The local celebrity was a Mr. Colson. Mr. Colson was stud groom to the Rajah of Ahmednugger. He was also, and at the same time, one of the most obnoxious persons I have, in the course of my career, had the pleasure of meeting. There never was such a loud-voiced braggart. It set one's nerves on edge to hear him. To listen to him, there was nothing he could not do. The misfortune was, that some of the things which he said he could do, he could do, and do well. I had found that out to my cost, soon after my arrival in Ahmednugger. And, in consequence, he had sat on me heavily ever since. He was a horrible man.

That evening Mr. Colson was holding forth in his usual style, on the subject of billiards. I should mention that, at the period of which I am writing, Mr. John Roberts, the famous player, was on a tour in India.

"I saw John Roberts at Calcutta," observed Mr. Colson, "and he saw me.

He also saw me play. When he saw me play, he said he doubted if he could give me fifteen in a hundred. I told him that I should like to see him do it. But he wouldn't take it on."

"Is that so?" asked Mr. Johns.

"That is so. I should like to see him give me ten in a hundred, either John Roberts or any man now living."

"I should like to have a game with you, Mr. Colson."

"You would?" Mr. Colson looked at Mr. Johns. He looked him up and down. Mr. Colson was large and florid. Mr. Johns was small and underfed. Mr. Colson was, at least, expensively attired. About Mr.

John's costume there was certainly no suspicion of expense. "I don't mind having you a hundred up, my lad. How many shall I give you?"

"I am no player, Mr. Colson, but I'd like to play you even, if only for the sake of saying that I'd had the cheek to do it."

"You shall have that pleasure. And how much would you like to have on--if only for the sake of saying that you had the cheek to have it on?"

And Mr. Colson winked at the company in general.

"Well, Mr. Colson, you and the other gentlemen have won all my money; but, I daresay, I might manage ten rupees."

"Put 'em up, my lad. Here's my ten. We'll play for the twenty."

They played for the twenty. And, to my satisfaction, and I believe to the satisfaction of most of the others who were in the room, it was Mr. Johns who won. I am bound to say that it seemed to me to be rather a fluky win. Mr. Colson, whose disgust was amusing, had no doubt whatever about the fluke.

"Never saw anything like it, never! The b.a.l.l.s never broke for me, not once! As for you; why, you did nothing else but fluke."

"Do you think so? I'll play you again double or quits, and I'll give ten in the hundred, Mr. Colson."

Mr. Colson seemed amazed. In fact, I have no doubt he was amazed.

"I like your modesty! You'll give me ten! Here's my twenty. I'll take you on."

Mr. Colson took him on. And, by way of fair exchange, Mr. Johns took him off. That is to say, he took off the stakes and the game. He did it rather neatly: just running in as Mr. Colson looked like winning.

Mr. Colson was adjectival.

"Never saw anything like it--never, in all my born days! Never saw anything like my somethinged, somethinged, somethinged luck! And as for your fluking--why, it just beats anything."

"Think so? I'll play you again, Mr. Colson, and again double or quits; and this time I'll give you twenty in a hundred."

"You'll give me--you'll give me--twenty in a hundred? You will? Come on! That'll be forty rupees a side--here's mine! Macbee, put me on twenty, and we'll see what I can do."

We did see what he could do. We also saw that Mr. Johns seemed able to do a little better. Once more he won the game. I am sure that we were all enjoying ourselves very much--much more than we had had any reason to antic.i.p.ate. As for Mr. Colson, he went purple. He showered on Mr.

Johns a volley of that sort of language which I had found pretty fashionable at Ahmednugger. Mr. Johns listened to him in silence, while he pocketed the spoils. Then he had his say.

"You say I fluke? Why, my dear sir, you've no idea what a fluke is.

You've no idea of any sort about billiards. You can no more play billiards than you can play the gentleman--you can't! You're the sort of person whom it is just as well, once in a way, to expose. You're a humbug, Mr. Colson, you're a humbug. As for John Roberts doubting if he could give you fifteen in a hundred--why, he could give you ninety-nine in a hundred, and beat you single-handed. I tell you what I will do, Mr. Colson. I will play you five hundred up, for five hundred rupees a side. I will give you four hundred start, and I will lay two to one against you with any gentleman who cares to back you.

I don't think that's an unfair offer, Mr. Colson."

It struck me as, at any rate, a rash offer. Mr. Colson was not such a tyro as Mr. Johns made out. He had made mincemeat of me--I do know that. Yet the offer did not seem to be made in any spirit of braggadocio. I fancy that the quiet, matter-of-fact manner in which it was made impressed Mr. Colson more than he altogether cared to own. My impression it that, if he had had his own way, he would have changed the subject. But the odds offered him were such, and the challenge was made in such a public manner, that he probably felt that, if he wished to preserve a rag of reputation, now or never was the time to show the stuff that he was made of. Anyhow, the offer was accepted, and the terms of the match were definitely arranged before the parties left the room.

CHAPTER III.

THE COALITION.

As I was retiring to rest, some one tapped at my bed-room door. In response to my invitation to enter, Mr. Johns came in. Without any preamble, he plunged at once into the purport of his presence in my chamber at that hour of the night, or, rather, morning.

"I have come, Mr. Greenall, to ask you to lend me five hundred rupees."

I turned. I looked at him. He met my glance without showing any signs of discomposure.

"You have come to--what?"

He repeated his remark--quite as though it were a matter of course.

"To ask if you will lend me five hundred rupees."

"I don't know if you are in earnest, Mr. Johns. If you are, I would remark, first, that I am not a money lender; and, second, that you are a complete stranger to me."

"I want the money to stake in my match with Mr. Colson."

"Indeed. Is that so? Then that is an added reason why I should decline to lend it to you. In my opinion, Mr. Johns, your chances of success in that match are, to say the least of it, remote."

"Look here, Mr. Greenall, I'm the last man in the world to wish to make myself offensive, but if we can understand each other I think that you and I might do each other a good turn. I know all about how you've been treated by the fellows here. I know how they've all been taking pop shots at you. From what I hear they've made you look like the biggest all-round m.u.f.f that ever left his mammy. I daresay it's cost you something, too."

I did not altogether appreciate this gentleman's free-and-easy style of conversation. But to a certain extent I, so to speak, dissembled.