Paine, this young lady bet me a new pipe against a box of gloves that you wouldn't--" "Father," broke in the young lady, herself, "stop." "Oh, all right, all right.

Just as you say.

But I tell you this, Paine; SHE hasn't any scruples against betting on certainties." She was leaning against the cockpit rail, looking forward, and I could not see her face.

She spoke without turning.
"You thought yours was the certainty," she said.

"You warned me that I was sure to lose." "Did I?
Well, you may, even yet.