“About Gilbert Pennington.”
Nuggy arose at once, and followed his companion to the state-room which had been assigned to them. The quarters were cramped; but they were much better than those occupied by the soldiers, who slept in long rows of canvas cots, suspended between uprights of “gas-piping,” as the supports were commonly called. Only the colonel and the majors had private compartments: even the captains slept with their men.
When Nuggy heard what his chum had to tell, his face grew dark and full of bitter hatred.
“That makes it certain he is in a game against me and my father,” he said. “Unless I take good care of myself, he will prove a regular snake in the grass. I wish I could pitch him overboard.”
“You will have to be extra careful of what you say after this, Nuggy. If I were you, I wouldn’t mention the Importing Company in his presence again.”
“I won’t.”
“If he brings up the subject, treat it in an off-handed way, and try to convince him that everything is all right, and that you were fooling when you spoke about squeezing out those other people.”
“Trust me to smooth it over—if I get the chance,” responded Nuggy. “But I wish I could get hold of that letter he intends to send.”
The next day slipped by without the young lieutenant and Polk coming into contact with each other. Gilbert had several important duties to attend to, and only saw Nuggy from a distance. In the evening Gilbert sat down in the cabin to write the letter to Ralph Branders.
It was no easy task to compose the epistle, for the young lieutenant hardly knew how to introduce the subject. But he had met Branders on the field of San Juan, and felt that he could trust the young and rising lawyer thoroughly; and he ended by relating his case from start to finish. He asked Branders to investigate, and promised to remunerate the lawyer as far as was within his means.