So, as the fellows would see him with the idlers until bedtime at night, and then heard of his making recitations as good as "Poler" Barrows in the morning, it was no wonder that some began to think him a "phenomenon" like Todd. That was what Young wanted them to think. He thought a great deal about what others thought about him--a great deal too much, some of his more intimate a.s.sociates decided one evening, while waiting for him in Minerva Powelton"s room.
"No, don"t begin yet," Powelton was saying. "I promised the Deacon we"d wait for him."
"I don"t see why he is always so anxious to get in the game," said Billy Drew, inhaling cigarette-smoke. "I don"t believe he really enjoys it very much."
"The trouble with the Deacon," said Todd, "is that he is too much afraid of your opinion. If he hadn"t got so bored when we called him dignified he wouldn"t have made the mistake in the first place of trying to be a dead-game, you know. It isn"t his style to be that, so he was guyed and laughed at. But instead of bracing up and being like himself, he sticks it on all the harder. He thinks to win favor that way. That"s the plain English of it."
"Aw, you make me tired!" said Lee, good-naturedly. "Somehow, lately, you"re always preaching. The Deacon wants a little recreation, like the rest of us. That"s all. He has plenty of good stuff in him."
"Plenty," said Todd. "Trouble is, he doesn"t let it out."
The door opened.
"Yea! Deacon," said the others.
"Been doing the poler act on the sly again, have you?" asked Powelton, throwing a sofa cushion at him.
"Naw. h.e.l.lo there, Lucky! You here? Going to get in the little game this evening, hey?" said Young, smiling. "Toddie, you are, aren"t you?"
"No, thanks," said Todd, arising and stretching himself.
""Fraid, are you?" asked Young.
Todd laughed contemptuously. "I"m not afraid to have you think I"m afraid, if it gives you any pleasure; it doesn"t hurt me. Lucky, are you coming with me?"
"No," said Lee, looking at the Deacon, "I reckon I"ll stay awhile."
"Come on, Lucky," Todd said.
Lee shook his head.
Todd turned, watched the others a moment, while they got out the cards and chips, and drew up their chairs to the table; then, smiling quizzically at Young, he took his hat and left the room.
Now Young may not have been poling just before he arrived, but together with late hours and lack of exercise, he looked as pale and haggard as the hardest poler in college. And by the strong light opposite him, as he sat playing at the table, a fellow like Linton might have fancied he saw other lines in his face--unpleasant lines that meant something besides hard study and lack of exercise.
Somehow, at this game, he did not look like the same Deacon Young who trotted home from football practice last fall, glowing and glad to be alive.
The att.i.tude of most of the club toward the cla.s.s at large was very much what Young"s was toward Barrows and Wilson and those fellows. The Invincibles had been frowned upon by the cla.s.s for being "sporty"; consequently they hated the cla.s.s. Instead of changing their conduct, they became "sportier" than ever, and they were fast gaining a reputation throughout the college world, and they considered themselves very dangerous.
The poker game went on. It was getting late, but n.o.body noticed that.
"Whose deal is it?"
"Mine," said Lucky, picking up the cards with a nervous hand; he began to shuffle them.
Powelton smiled in his superior way. "Look at Lucky"s fingers twitch,"
he said. The others laughed, and Young added, indulgently, "The little boy will get over that in time."
Lee was dealing, and he was too much excited to hear or reply to this sally; it was 1 A.M. of the first night he had ever played cards for money in his life, and with a beginner"s luck he had been winning all evening.
"Can you open it, Tommy?" asked Lee, the dealer.
"Nope," said Stevens.
"I can"t," said Powelton.
"Can you, Deacon?"
"No, of course not."
"Can you, Billy?"
Drew shook his head.
"No," said Jones, without waiting to be asked.
"Sweeten it up, then," said Powelton.
"Wait a minute," said Lee. "I can. Who"s coming in?" He giggled excitedly.
Three of the six simply laid down their hands hopelessly. "I never saw such luck," one of them said.
Young hesitated a moment "I guess I"ll come in," he said finally. "Four cards please." He puffed on an extinguished cigar-b.u.t.t.
"Well, well! the Deacon"s got nerve," said Drew.
"Oh! he"s getting to be an old hand," said Minerva Powelton, winking.
"See how coolly he picks up his cards," remarked Billy Drew.
Young paid no attention to these remarks. He was cool outwardly, but it was the coolness of desperation. He had been losing all the evening as steadily as Lucky had been gaining. But you see he was not a beginner now; he had played five or six times and felt himself, as they said, an old hand at it, and he too had laughed at Lucky"s greenness--early in the evening. But now Lucky, who was never persuaded to play poker until the Deacon played, was winning away all his money.
Young did not know how much he had lost; he would not let himself think.
But he knew it was more than he could afford, and he made up his mind that if he lost this time he would not give himself a chance to lose again. He picked up the four cards he had drawn in place of the discarded ones, and looked at them. His heart gave a bound. He covered the cards for a moment, and then looked at them again.
"Yes, it"s really true," he said to himself. "Surely this hand can"t be beaten."
"Well, what do you do, Deacon?"
For answer Young simply laid down a large bet.
"Hully Gee!" whispered Powelton to Drew. "Big bluff the Deacon is throwing, eh?"
Lee overheard it. He meant to show the Deacon that he could not be bluffed out, even if he were a beginner. Besides, he had a hand he was willing to stake a good deal upon. He put down twice the amount of Young"s bet.
"Hoho! the bluff didn"t work," laughed Drew. "Now, then, Deacon, let"s see what you can do."
"Shut up!" said Young. "Don"t bother us!" He puffed on his cold cigar a moment, and then put down another large bet.