Bancroft suddenly grew animated. "Wait a second-don''t tell me it''s Mr. Clyde Spencer?"


    Effie nodded. "That''s right. Do you know my grandfather?"


    Bancroft almost leapt from his seat. "Well, that exins everything!"


    He went on, "You might not realize it, but Mr. Spencer is a grandmaster. Anyone who''s even remotely serious about chess knows his name."


    Who would have guessed that Effie was trained by Clyde himself?


    No wonder there was no way he could''ve won!


    Effie shrugged. "I had no idea my grandpa was such a big deal. I always thought he was just some old guy who happened to be good at chess."


    Bancroft burst outughing. "If Mr. Spencer ever heard you describe him like that, I can''t even imagine what he''d think."


    Effie grinned. "That''s exactly how he describes himself. He calls himself an old man who likes a quiet game of chess now and then. He teaches at the university most of the time, so he only ys when he''s free.”


    Bancroft shook his head in admiration. "Some people really are just born with a gift."


    Across the room, Fidelia shot Effie a disdainful look and whispered to Marcia, "Mom, I bet Effie''s been waiting ages for this moment-she totally dropped that bomb on purpose."


    Marcia nodded. "I knew it. She''s been ying dumb this whole time."


    What the others thought didn''t bother Bancroft in the slightest. In fact, the more he watched Effie, the more he liked her as his granddaughter-inw.


    Lyman turned to Effie. "How about a match? You and me?"


    Effie smiled. "Aren''t you afraid you''ll lose?"


    Lyman grinned back. "It''s just a game, not a matter of life or death. What''s there to be afraid of?"


    Before, everyone had assumed Lyman was just dodging a match with Effie to avoid being embarrassed in front of the family. Now, he was putting those rumors to rest himself.


    Watching Bancroft and Effie y. had already been thrilling enough but this would be the first time anyone had seen Effie go up against Lyman. The whole room buzzed, with curiosity and excitement.


    Friedman Etheridge leaned toward Lindy. "So, who do you think will win-our daughter-inw or our son?"


    Lindyughed. "Does it matter? Either way, it''s the family''s win."


    Friedman grinned. "True, but I was about to suggest a little wager. If win, you give me that fishing rod If youawin, tu buy you that handbag you''ve been eyeing."


    Lindy hadn''t intended to bet, but Friedman''s terms were tempting.


    "Deal," she said. "I''m betting on Effie."


    "Fine, then I''m betting on Lyman," Friedman replied.


    Bancroft chimed in, "Count me in, too. I''m betting on Effie."


    "If you''re betting, you have to put something up," Friedman said.


    Bancroft scoffed. "What, you think I can''t cough up a fishing rod if I lose? I just


    hope you don''t chicken out when you lose."


    Friedman huffed. "I''m not afraid of losing."


    "Good," Bancroft replied. "Then if I win, I want that marble chessboard you keep in your study."


    It finally clicked for Friedman. "Dad, so this whole thing was a setup?”


    Bancroft just grinned. "Why not? Didn''t you say you were sure you''d win?"


    Friedman was nearly left speechless.


    As she set up the pieces, Effie couldn''t help but think to herself that Lyman must


    have inherited his knack for setting traps from his father.


    And it wasn''t just Friedman and the others making wagers-bets were flying all around the room.


    Some, like Fowler, Healy, and


    Graham Etheridge, were sure


    would win-maybe it wa


    guy


    other


    thing The women, on the hand, were all rooting for Effie.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!