"You see, Uncle Henry," he went on, "it wasn't that I minded banking so much as the fact that I hated to go away and leave this crook here with ten thousand dollars of perfectly good money."
He nodded toward Morton.
"Crook?" echoed Mr. Davidson.
"Sure! Did you think I wasn't wise? I knew it the very night he trimmed me. But he was your guest in our house; so what could I say?
"I knew I'd been buncoed the minute I thought the thing over. So I didn't propose to go away and leave him on the job. I decided to stick around and take a chance on getting it back."
Morton was imperturbable.
"And I got it back," added Billy triumphantly, with a fleeting look at Rosalind.
Mr. Davidson turned a questioning glance upon the Englishman, who nodded and smiled faintly. A bewildered look overspread the face of the master of the house.
"I introduced him to poker," explained Billy.
"Introduced—him!" cried his uncle. "Introduced Morton to poker? Why, you young cub, he played poker before you were out of knee-breeches!"