For reply, the shipping-clerk pulled Richard down into a seat.
"Don't be a fool," he whispered. "We won't hurt you. All the fellows here are gentlemen. No use of offending them."
Richard sprang to his feet.
"I don't want to stay, and that's all there is to it," he exclaimed.
"If your friends are offended by my going away, why I can't help it.
I didn't come up here of my own choosing in the first place, and I
claim the right to leave whenever I please."
"Oh, you do, do you?" sneered Norris. "Well, we'll see about that."
And he placed himself between Richard and the door.
Richard grew pale.
"Perhaps I'll have to fight my way out," he thought. "I suppose this is nothing but a gambling den. Well, I'll fight if it comes to that," he finished; and his eyes flashed with determination.
"Come, Norris, none of that," said a tall young man, who sat at the head of the table. "No one shall be forced to stay here against his will. You should have found out if your friend cared for this sort of thing before you brought him."
It was seldom that Don Wimler said so much, either at the club-rooms or outside, and every one knew he meant every word.