He won't win, but I want him as a
hedge. Now, I'll give you half a crown for him." Tadpole holds out, but
between threats and cajoleries at length sells half for one shilling and
sixpence--about a fifth of its fair market value; however, he is glad to
realize anything, and, as he wisely remarks, "Wanderer mayn't win, and
the tizzy is safe anyhow."
East presently comes up and draws a blank. Soon after comes Tom's turn.
His ticket, like the others, is seized and opened. "Here you are then,"
shouts the opener, holding it up--"Harkaway!--By Jove, Flashey, your
young friend's in luck."
"Give me the ticket," says Flashman, with an oath, leaning across the
table with open hand and his face black with rage.
"Wouldn't you like it?" replies the opener, not a bad fellow at the
bottom, and no admirer of Flashman. "Here, Brown, catch hold." And he
hands the ticket to Tom, who pockets it. Whereupon Flashman makes for
the door at once, that Tom and the ticket may not escape, and there
keeps watch until the drawing is over and all the boys are gone, except
the sporting set of five or six, who stay to compare books, make bets,
and so on; Tom, who doesn't choose to move while Flashman is at the
door; and East, who stays by his friend, anticipating trouble. The
sporting set now gathered round Tom. Public opinion wouldn't allow them
actually to rob him of his ticket, but any humbug or intimidation by
which he could be driven to sell the whole or part at an undervalue was
lawful.
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