Shillito frowned, but went with him to the back veranda. Although the
night was warm and an electric light burned under the roof, nobody was
about. Cartwright signed the other to sit down.

"I expect your holiday's nearly up, and the hotel car meets the train in
the morning," he remarked.

"What about it?" Shillito asked. "I'm not going yet."

"You're going to-morrow," said Cartwright grimly.

Shillito smiled and gave him an insolent look, but his smile vanished.
Cartwright's white mustache bristled, his face was red, and his eyes
were very steady. It was not for nothing the old ship-owner had fronted
disappointed investors and forced his will on shareholders' meetings.
Shillito saw the fellow was dangerous.

"I'll call you," he said, using a gambler's phrase.

"Very well," said Cartwright. "I think my cards are good, and if I can't
win on one suit, I'll try another. To begin with, the hotel proprietor
sent for me. He stated the house was new and beginning to pay, and he
was anxious about its character. People must be amused, but he was
running a summer hotel, not a gambling den. The play was too high, and
young fools got into trouble; two or three days since one got broke.
Well, he wanted me to use my influence, and I said I would."

"He asked you to keep the stakes in bounds? It's a good joke!"