The air was already stiff with smoke and profanity. Men had congregated there soon after receiving their wages.
In a little room apart, sat men intent on a game of cards. Lord Kelwin joined them. One of the players, a mining engineer, was a professional gambler, who frequently raked into his pockets the hard-earned wages of many laboring men. Everyone save the engineer seemed tense. Once in a while, a smothered oath was heard. At the close of the game, the Irish lord, also, began to play. He had been drinking, and though an experienced player, he was no match for the sober gambler. He lost heavily. At the close of the game, he drank again, then staggered out of the door. Ah, how many had done the same!
Pete Tompkins followed, gibing him about entering the mare in the race.
"What in blank are ye enterin' her fur?" asked the aforesaid Pete.
The men gathered about expectant of a fray.
"What am—I—entering her—for—(staggering and hiccoughing)—entering her for? Ye blanked Americans!—I'm entering her for Miss Bright—Miss Bright, ye know—Miss Bright—" He laughed a silly laugh. "I'm going to marry her." Here, he indulged in a drunken jest that sent some of the men into fits of laughter.
A few, standing outside the door, had attended the men's club and the Sunday service. Jack Harding, passing at that moment, stopped to speak with one of the men, and overheard the reference to Esther Bright. His face grew sternly white. He stepped in front of the boastful Irishman, and said in a stern, quiet voice:
"Brute, say that you lied."
"Blank you, you religious hypocrite," roared Lord Kelwin, "you can't bully me!"
Jack Harding sprang upon him, gripped his throat like a vice, and demanded that he retract every insulting word he had said about the teacher. "What is that to you? Blank you!" gasped the Irishman.