The Prospector had fared but little better. What with the money he had staked, and side bets on individual throws, his pile of money had been reduced to half.
“There ain’t nothin’ mean about me,” he said, “but I’d be obliged if some gen’leman would shout.”
Dolphin touched the bell, and said, “I was beginning to feel that way myself.”
A very undersized young man, who had plastered his black hair carefully and limped with one leg, appeared, and said in a very shrill voice, “Yes, gentlemen.”
“Who are you?” asked Dolphin.
“I’m the actin’-barman,” replied the young man, twirling the japanned tray in his hands, and drawing himself up to his full height.
“I should call you the blanky rouseabout,” said Dolphin. “We want the bar-maid.”
“Miss Quintal says she ain’t comin’,” said the important youth. “To tell the truth, she’s a bit huffed with the ’ole lot of yer. What’s your orders, gents?”
He had hardly got the words out of his mouth, when Young William rushed him from the room and along the passage.
Dolphin rang the bell, but no one came to the door till Young William himself reappeared.