IV

At half past eleven the Quinns says somethin’ about goin’ home.

“Sure!” says Hatch. “You’re ’way winners. Sneak off, like a couple o’ pikers.”

“Oh, you mustn’t go yet!” says the Missus. “I got some sandwiches and coffee for you. We’ll stop playin’ right now and I’ll go out and get ’em.”

“You will not!” says I. “We’ll quit playin’ when we get a good ready.”

“But if Mr. and Mrs. Quinn has to go home,” she says, “we mustn’t keep ’em.”

“We won’t keep ’em,” I says. “Let ’em go home.”

And Mrs. Quinn giggled again.

If they was any diplomatic relations left between my wife and I, they was severed in the last few minutes o’ play. Hatch had suggested that we’d ought to raise the limit to half a buck. Mrs. Hatch and the Quinns and my Missus objected. Tuttle and I was for it. So the limit was raised to half a buck.

Mrs. Quinn opened a certain pot. Hatch raised half a dollar. My Missus had three queens. She just lingered. If she’d raised, Mrs. Quinn would of quit cold. But after the love birds had consulted a while she decided to stand Hatch’s tilt. She drew one card. Hatch took two; and somethin’ told me, while he was drawin’, that a pair was all he had. The Missus took a couple and didn’t help her queens.

Mrs. Quinn checked it. That’s somethin’ she’d just learned. Hatch shoved in five chips. I could see the Missus waverin’ and I was sure certain that she had Hatch trimmed. So I nudged her to call. She looked at me and I nodded my head. And then she tossed her hand away.