"Mr. Small," said I, "if you're going in to town there's room in my car for you."
"Thanks. I'm stopping here at the club. Archie fixed me up with a room. The Colonel is going to stay and have dinner with me, ain't you, Colonel? Surest thing you know! He's met a lot of friends of mine out West. Small world, ain't it? Going, eh? Well, behave yourself!... Now then, Colonel, gimme a few more days of this cow-pasture pool and I'll show you what a real bet looks like!"
I left the wolf and the lamb together, and I don't mind admitting that I liked one as well as the other.
Business took me out of town for ten days, and when I returned home I was told that Archie had been telephoning me all the morning. I rang him at his office.
"Oh, hello, Bill! You're back just in time for the big show.... Eh? Oh, Colonel Jimmy is due for another attack of lumbago this afternoon.... Small telephoned me last night that he was complaining a little.... The goat? Why, Small, of course! The chinless boy is playing alone these days; better pickings elsewhere.... Yes, you oughtn't to miss it. See you later. 'Bye."
IV
Now, very little happens at Meadowmead, in the clubhouse or on the links, without David Cameron's knowledge. The waiters talk, the steward gossips, the locker-room boys repeat conversations which they overhear, and the caddies are worse than magpies. David, listening patiently and rubbing his ear, comes by a great deal of interesting information. I felt certain that he would have a true line on the wool market. I found him sitting in front of his shop. He was wearing a collar and tie, which is always a sign that he is at liberty for the afternoon. "You're dressed up to-day, David," said I.
"Ay," said he, "I'm thinkin' I'll be a gallery."
"Is there a match?"
"Ay, a money match. The ter-rms were agreed on at eleven this mornin'. The Cur-rnel is gruntin' an' groanin' with the lumba-ago again. Muster Small has taken a cruel advan-take of the auld man. A cruel advantage."