Like a soldier returning from a week in
the trenches, I sought the comfort and seclusion of the Y.M.C.A. Here
I witnessed a checker contest of a low order between two unscrupulous
brothers. They had a peculiar technique completely their own. It
consisted of arts and dodges and an extravagant use of those
adjectives one is commonly supposed to shun.
"Say, there's a queen down at the end of the room," one of them would
suddenly exclaim, and while the other brother was gazing eagerly in
that direction he would deliberately remove several of his men from
the board. But the other brother, who was not so balmy as he
looked, would occasionally discover this slight irregularity and
proceed to express his opinion of it by word of mouth, which for sheer
force of expression was in the nature of a revelation to me. It was
appalling to sit there and watch those two young men, who had
evidently at one time come from a good home, sit in God's bright
sunshine and cheat each other throughout the course of an afternoon
and lie out of it in the most obvious manner. The game was finally
discontinued, owing to a shortage of checkermen which they had
secreted in their pockets, a fact which each one stoutly denied with
many weird and rather indelicate vows.
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