Explore "His Royal Nibs" by Winnifred Eaton Reeve on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"San-ndy!"
The three on the verandah jumped. That crisp summons, that peculiar inflection meant but one thing. Chess! Sandy cast a swift agonized glance about him, seeking an immediate mode of escape. He was slipping cat-footed and doubled over along the back of the swinging couch on the verandah, when again came the imperative summons, this time with even more deadly significance.