The other shook his head. "I'll get it all back at Miami, of course. In
the mean time--if you don't mind letting me have enough to square
things--"

Portlaw hesitated, balancing his bulk uneasily first on one foot, then
the other.

"I don't mind; no; only--"

"Only what?" asked Malcourt. "I told you I couldn't afford to play cards
on this trip, but you insisted."

"Certainly, certainly! I expected to consider you as--as--"

"I'm your general manager and I'm ready at all times to earn my salary.
If you think it best to take me away from the estate for a junketing
trip and make me play cards you can do it of course; but if you think
I'm here to throw my money overboard I'm going back to-morrow!"

"Nonsense," said Portlaw; "you're not going back. There's nothing doing
in winter up there that requires your personal attention--"

"It's a bad winter for the deer--I ought to be there now--"

"Well, can't Blake and O'Connor attend to that?"

"Yes, I suppose they can. But I'm not going to waste the winter and my
salary in the semi-tropics just because you want me to--"