GR translation: His eyes are steelies that never lose.

[Mike Jing]

V526.9-21, P535.5-19   The Springer is his old chipper self: “Fresh
eggs and coffee in the pilot house—fall to. We’re due out of here in
15 minutes.”
       “Well just belay that ‘we,’ Ace.”
       “But I need your help.” Springer’s wearing a suit of fine tweed
this morning, very Savile Row, fits perfectly—
       “Närrisch needed your help.”
       “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes are
steelies that never lose. His laugh, subtitled Humoring the Fools, is
Mitteleuropäisch and mirthless. “All right, all right. How much do you
want?”
       “Everything’s got a price, right?” But he’s not being noble
here, no, what it is is that his own price has just occurred to him,
and he needs to shim the talk here, give it a second to breathe and
develop.
       “Everything.”

The word "lose" here refers to a game of marbles, is that correct?
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Pynchon-l / http://www.waste.org/mail/?list=pynchon-l