"Well?" said Wesson, good naturedly, when he had closed the door and, at my suggestion, locked it. "You were in my room? Yes. Do you care to tell me why? I leave it entirely to you, Mr. Camran. If you choose to tell, well and good. If not I shall be perfectly satisfied."
His courtesy was complete and, knowing what I did, seemed to me well advised.
"Mr. Wesson," I said, "you have just saved me from a disagreeable and possible dangerous situation. That man had a loaded revolver—I had nothing. He is in the best of health; I, as you know, have recently recovered from a long illness. Had you appeared two minutes later it is no exaggeration to say you would probably have found a dead man on that floor."
"In that case I am glad I came when I did," he replied, affably. "What was the row about?"
I told him briefly of the previous encounter on the balcony at St. Croix and the incentives to the present affair.
"Strange!" he answered. "There doesn't seem much to found a murderous attack on in those two things, does there? Had you never met him before this trip?"
"Never."
"How did he know your right name?"
I explained the exchange of my check for the cash he won of me in the smoking room of the Madiana.
A peculiar look came into Wesson's face.