“Round thirty-one hundred,” he says.
“Yes,” says Mrs. Garrett, “and I don’t believe any o’ the rest o’ the men is within five hundred o’ that.”
“Well, Messenger,” I says, “if the men’s prize happens to be a case o’ beer or a steak smothered in onions, don’t forget that I’m payin’ you thirty-five a month for a thirty-dollar flat.”
Now, I’d of gave my right eye to see Mrs. Collins beat Mrs. Garrett out. But I was goin’ to do my best for Mrs. Garrett just the same, because I don’t think it’s square for a man to not try and play your hardest all the time in any kind of a game, no matter where your sympathies lays. So when it come my turn to bid on the first hand, and I seen the ace and king and four other hearts in my hand, I raised Mrs. Collins’ bid o’ two diamonds, and Mrs. Garrett made it two no trump and got away with it. On the next two deals Messenger and Mrs. Collins made a game, and Mrs. Garrett got set a trick once on a bid o’ five clubs. The way the score was when it come to the last deal, I figured that if Mrs. Collins and Messenger made another game and rubber, the two women’d be mighty close to even.
Mrs. Garrett dealt ’em, and says: “One without.”
“Two spades,” says Mrs. Collins.
Well, sir, they wasn’t a spade in my hand, and I seen that if Mrs. Collins got it we was ruined on account o’ me not havin’ a trump. And w’ile I wanted Mrs. Collins to win I was goin’ to do my best to not let her. So I says:
“Two without.”
“You know what you’re doin’, do you?” says Mrs. Garrett.
“What do you mean, know what I’m doin’?” I says.