What are we playing for? Yes, a penny’s perfectly all right. Out there we generally play for half a cent a piece, a penny a family. But a penny apiece is all right. I guess we can afford it now, can’t we, dear? Tom hasn’t told you about his raise. He was—All right, Tommie; I’ll shut up. I know you hate to be talked about, but your wife can’t help being just a teeny bit proud of you. And I think your best friends are interested in your affairs, aren’t you, folks?
But Tom is the most secretive person I ever knew. I believe he even keeps things from me! Not very many, though. I can usually tell when he’s hiding something and I keep after him till he confesses. He often says I should have been a lawyer or a detective, the way I can worm things out of people. Don’t you, Tom?
For instance, I never would have known about his experience with those horrid football people at Yale if I hadn’t just made him tell me. Didn’t you know about that? No, Tom, I’m going to tell Arthur even if you hate me for it. I know you’d be interested, Arthur, not only because you’re Tom’s friend, but on account of you being such a famous athlete yourself. Let me see, how was it, Tom? You must help me out. Well, if I don’t get it right, you correct me.
Well, Tom’s friends at Yale had heard what a wonderful football player he was in high school so they made him try for a place on the Yale nine. Tom had always played halfback. You have to be a fast runner to be a halfback and Tom could run awfully fast. He can yet. When we were engaged we used to run races and the prize was—All right, Tommie, I won’t give away our secrets. Anyway, he can beat me to pieces.
Well, he wanted to play halfback at Yale and he was getting along fine and the other men on the team said he would be a wonder and then one day they were having their practice and Tex Jones, no, Ted Jones—he’s the main coach—he scolded Tom for having the signal wrong and Tom proved that Jones was wrong and he was right and Jones never forgave him. He made Tom quit playing halfback and put him tackle or end or some place like that where you can’t do anything and being a fast runner doesn’t count. So Tom saw that Jones had it in for him and he quit. Wasn’t that it, Tom? Well, anyway, it was something.
Oh, are you waiting for me? I’m sorry. What did you bid, Helen? And you, Tom? You doubled her? And Arthur passed? Well, let’s see. I wish I could remember what that means. I know that sometimes when he doubles he means one thing and sometimes another. But I always forget which is which. Let me see; it was two spades that he doubled, wasn’t it? That means I’m to leave him in, I’m pretty sure. Well, I’ll pass. Oh, I’m sorry, Tommie! I knew I’d get it wrong. Please forgive me. But maybe we’ll set them anyway. Whose lead?
I’ll stop talking now and try and keep my mind on the game. You needn’t look that way, Tommie. I can stop talking if I try. It’s kind of hard to concentrate though, when you’re, well, excited. It’s not only meeting you people, but I always get excited traveling. I was just terrible on our honeymoon, but then I guess a honeymoon’s enough to make anybody nervous. I’ll never forget when we went into the hotel in Chicago—All right, Tommie, I won’t. But I can tell about meeting the Bakers.
They’re a couple about our age that I’ve known all my life. They were the last people in the world I wanted to see, but we ran into them on State Street and they insisted on us coming to their hotel for dinner and before dinner they took us up to their room and Ken—that’s Mr. Baker—Ken made some cocktails, though I didn’t want any and Tom was on the wagon. He said a honeymoon was a fine time to be on the wagon! Ken said.
“Don’t tempt him, Ken,” I said. “Tom isn’t a drinker like you and Gertie and the rest of us. When he starts, he can’t stop.” Gertie is Mrs. Baker.
So Ken said why should he stop and I said there was good reason why he should because he had promised me he would and he told me the day we were married that if I ever saw him take another drink I would know that—
What did you make? Two odd? Well, thank heavens that isn’t a game! Oh, that does make a game, doesn’t it? Because Tom doubled and I left him in. Isn’t that wicked! Oh, dearie, please forgive me and I’ll promise to pay attention from now on! What do I do with these? Oh, yes, I make them for Arthur.
I was telling you about the Bakers. Finally Ken saw he couldn’t make Tom take a drink, so he gave up in disgust. But imagine meeting them on our honeymoon, when we didn’t want to see anybody! I don’t suppose anybody does unless they’re already tired of each other, and we certainly weren’t, were we, Tommie? And aren’t yet, are we, dear? And never will be. But I guess I better speak for myself.
There! I’m talking again! But you see it’s the first time we’ve been with anybody we really cared about; I mean, you’re Tom’s best friends and it’s so nice to get a chance to talk to somebody who’s known him a long time. Out there the people we run around with are almost strangers and they don’t talk about
