The usually slow-thinking Chert had been prepared for this question, and he answered posthaste. "All right so I set you up. But what of it? At least you come out better when I trick you than I do when you pull the same stunt! If you pull this off, which I think you can, then we both win. So what can be wrong with that?"
Chert's response was so vehement that Gord felt a little sorry for him. "Why didn't you just ask me to help you out on this, instead of trying to dupe me?" Gord asked gently.
"Because," Chert sighed. "If the truth be known, I wanted to pull a trick on you for a change."
"I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, poor fellow, but you couldn't fool a fool, let alone anyone of my intellectual caliber." Gord issued the insult in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.
"Well, it was worth a tiy," Chert said humbly. And still is, he thought, smiling inwardly. "So, will you do it?"
"How can I resist?" Gord eagerly agreed. "It will be be fun taking money from someone other than you, for a change," and with that he planted a hearty slap on the hillman's broad back. Chert had all he could do to keep from pounding his egotistical friend into the floorboards.
"So tell me, when do I get to meet this soon-to-be-broke professor?"
"Tonight you'll accompany me to the Toad, and there you can get the details directly from the man himself. Then it will be up to you to set the time and the stakes — should you opt to game. Oh, and one more thing." Chert added in as oflhand a tone as he could muster, "we split the winnings evenly. But should you lose, you're on your own, pal."
"Agreed. I have no fear, for I know not the meaning of the word 'lose'!" the overconfident thief boasted.
Chert simply nodded his agreement. If things worked out to his satisfaction. Gord would soon become well acquainted with the meaning of that particular word, as well as a few others. The barbarian fairly shook with repressed laughter.
"I hadn't recalled the Toad on a Toadstool being this far." Gord said as the two made their way to the tavern.
Chert gleefully noted his friend's obvious attempt to hide his eagerness to get to the game that was promised. The challenge, as well as the prospect of winning, was an apparent sauce to his appetite for chicanery and wagering. "Hmm. I thought you said you had gone to the University and lived around here," Chert said in a perplexed tone.
"Yes, there! Isnt that the sign?" In a minute they were seated comfortably at a table in the establishment. Chert, much to Gord's delight and amazement, volunteered to buy the first round. He purchased good wine for the young thief, and heavy, black-colored milk stout for himself. "Drink up, Gord, for the fellow will be here soon. To your health and our imminent wealth!"
Gord drank to that, of course, and bought the next round. Those drinks, too, were history a few minutes later, and Gord was soon starting to fidget. "Where is this Twistbuck? Are you sure he'll be here?"
"Relax. This round is on me, old chum. I'm not willing to stake my life on it, but he said he would be likely to stop in here when we parted company yesterday. Let's kick back and enjoy the evening!"
After a couple of hours, Gord began to suspect that he was being had. But the fact that Chert was buying the majority of the drinks was at least a saving grace, so the young thief decided to take it as it came, enjoy the moment, and see what happened. Let Chert have his fun, Gord thought to himself. He probably thinks he's getting me back for last night.
Then, when it was close to eleven o'clock, the hillman reached over and nudged Gord. "There, you see? The man who just came in is Twistbuck. But now I’m wondering, Gord. Maybe it's unfair to get him in a game against you. . . ."
"Oh, no, you don't! You're not getting me to back out of this now!" the nearly salivating rogue cried. "This is too good an opportunity to pass up."
Chert shook his head in mock sorrow. "I really do feel bad about this, Gord. We aren't in the habit of stealing from honorable men."
"If he desires it of us, what can we do?" Gord asked with mock sincerity. "C'mon, Chert if bringing me here and getting me all excited about the prospect of adding to my holdings and then letting me down is your idea of a joke, then the joke's on you! I insist on being introduced to this gamester, or I'll make my own introductions!" The tone in the young thief s voice left no room for doubt.
"Very well. You are forcing me into this, Gord. I can see that you have no intention of sparing the fellow, so I’ll go fetch him. You get another round — he usually drinks a decoction of lingonbeny spirits and barkwater, by the way." With that Chert stood up and went over to where Twistbuck was involved in conversation with several other scholars.
After signaling the barmaid to take a fresh order, Gord eased back in hits chair and waited. The drinks arrived, and a moment later so did the barbarian and the professor. Chert introduced Gord to him, and soon the two were chatting.
"Chert tells me you once attended the university," Twistbuck said with an inquiring smile.
The young thief nodded. "Yes, I did manage to spend some time studying at Ganz, but I didn't stay long enough to be graduated."
"What courses did you pursue?"
"Some of this, a bit of that," Gord said impatiently. But the scholar pressed him, so Gord mentioned the more interesting classes. There followed some banter concerning the instructors and relative merits of the various colleges. Eventually the young adventurer managed to steer the conversation onto the subject of betting and games. "Is it true that you have devised an amusing game, professor?"
"Oh, you must be referring to "Legs'. It's a silly little pastime, really, nothing more. I can't understand why it seems to have piqued anyone's interest, and calling it Twistbuck's Game' is annoying! It is beneath my dignity and station, after all, to have so foolish a thing bearing one's name."
"On the contrary! Chert says it sounds quite exciting and very sporting, too," Gord said ingratiatingly and then he leaned close to the professor and said in a low tone of voice. "In fact, my barbarian pal was so intrigued by the game that he was considering placing a wager on his ability to best you at your own creation! I told him it would be an insult for someone in your position to be challenged at your own game by someone with Chert's, ah, shall we say, low standing in the community of scholars? So he dragged me in here to do his dirty work for I him. I'm going along with this just to humor him." Gord put away the rest of his drink and issued a self-satisfied belch. Then he loudly prompted the professor, "Do be so kind as to explain this 'silly little pastime' to me."
Twistbuck concealed his fury, all the while consoling himself with how much fun it was going to be helping Chert get even with this arrogant rogue. With an airy wave of his hand, Twistbuck explained, "It is so simple a child can play. Why, I think even you could catch on in a matter of minutes." Gord ignored the insult, and the professor continued. "One simply notes the name or depiction, or both, on the sign above an inn, tavern or drinking house. If legs are implied in the name, then one counts them, modifying the count upward if the depiction on the establishment's sign should show a greater number." Gord looked puzzled, so Twistbuck further explained, in as condescending a tone as possible. "Let's suppose there is a tavern called the Fox and Hounds. A fox has four legs and hounds, being plural, implies two dogs and eight legs. Therefore, the minimum score of legs for such a place would be twelve. Am I clear so for?"
"Yes, I can see the game scoring clearly now," the young thief said enthusiastically.