Mr. Parker lit another cigar. Calmly, he said:
"That's right, Kenneth my boy. Keep a stiff upper lip. All's for the best. We'll have better luck next time."
As he spoke, Wilbur Steell passed on his way to join the ladies in the drawing-room. The president called out to him:
"Hello, Steell. What are you so busy about? Entertaining the women, eh? Always thought you were a lady killer. Suppose you come and smoke a cigar with me and let our friend here go and have a chat with his wife. You've no right to monopolize the fair sex in that fashion, even if you are a trust lawyer. Anyhow, I want to talk to you—just a little matter of business—that's all!"
Steell laughed, and, dropping into a chair, took the cigar which Mr. Parker held out. Turning to his host, and clapping him genially on the back the president exclaimed:
"Go and talk to your wife, old man. You've left her alone long enough."
"All right—I will," replied the gambler, not sorry of any excuse to get away.
Mr. Parker waited till he was out of hearing, then, leaning quickly over to his companion, he exclaimed in a tense whisper:
"Steell, I need your help."
The lawyer looked at him in surprise. Removing his cigar from his mouth he said: