Haight shook his head; “Morgan is at the Y, I suppose, as usual, and nobody will see him before sometime to-morrow. Have you noticed that fellow lately, Mr. Houston? Half the time he don’t seem to know what he’s about.”
“I have noticed that he scarcely appears like himself, of late,” Houston replied; “he seems to have some serious trouble.”
“He’s been losing pretty heavy lately, I guess, that’s what’s the matter; he’s awful reckless in his gambling, it’s neck or nothing, with him. I tell you,” Haight continued, watching Houston sharply, “Morgan would get the G.B. pretty sudden if the boss got onto the way he’s carrying sail.”
“Possibly,” said Houston, quietly, “but he will not know of it from me.”
“No?” said Haight, with a curious, rising reflection.
“No, indeed,” responded Houston, with some warmth, “when a man is in trouble, it is no time to give him a push downward; besides, I would not do or say anything to injure Morgan, anyway.”
Haight looked up curiously, and even the faces of the ladies expressed a slight surprise.
“I didn’t know you and Morgan were such good friends,” Haight remarked wonderingly.
“I do not know,” said Houston, “that either he or I consider that we are particular friends, though we are friendly enough, but I have learned this about Morgan; that whatever his principles, or his manner of life may be, he is far less to be blamed than people would ordinarily suppose.”
“Well,” said Haight, rising, “Morgan and I have been together, off and on, for the last three years, but I don’t know anything about him except just what I have seen for myself, what anybody can see; of course his way isn’t my way, but then, we don’t any of us think alike, and I’ve never had any fault to find with him, and we’ve got along together first rate. I suppose,” he continued, “you will give directions in the morning for that fellow and his machines, for it isn’t likely that Morgan will be around much before ten o’clock.”