We will go to the beach."
Oscar and Cad did not start right off--they were too smart for that.
They were playing a great game. They did not see the three men; they did
not know they were being watched. Oh, no, they were too absorbed in each
other and the fun they were having and the winnings they were raking in.
It was a strange incident, but one that often occurs. Oscar was not
betting to win. He was merely betting as a "guy," and, as intimated, it
often happens that the careless win where the careful and posted lose. A
race had just been run and a messenger boy returned with the tickets he
had cashed, and the girl pulled out a big wad of bills and added the
winnings to her roll. The three observers noticed that she carried the
bulk of the money, and one of them said:
"Great sea waves! what a wad she has got!"
"And here we are, chummies, dead broke--not been able to make a bet."
"Not a bet," came the doleful refrain.
"We'll bet to-morrow," said one of the men with a knowing wink.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"They may have a coach down here and outride us."
"Don't you believe it. That chap is too happy. He'll have the gal down
to the beach for a supper. Good enough, we will take our supper later
on. He'll treat; yes, we'll dine with him without an invitation--see?"
"I don't see it yet.
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