They passed on, to look upon the drunken, noisy dance in progress beyond the canvas partition.
“Not here,” said Walker. “But say! There’s a man over there that I know.”
Bentley looked in that direction. 116
“The one dancing with the big woman in red,” directed Walker.
Bentley had only a glance at Walker’s friend, for the young man pulled his arm and hurried him out. Outside Walker seemed to breathe easier.
“I’ll tell you,” he explained. “It’s this way: I didn’t suppose he’d want to be seen in there by anybody that knew him. You see, he’s the Governor’s son.”
“Oh, I see,” said Bentley.
“So if we happen to run across him tomorrow you’ll not mention it, will you?”
“I’ll not be advertising it that I was in there in very big letters,” Bentley assured him.
“A man does that kind of a thing once in a while,” said Walker. “It bears out what I was saying about the doctor. No matter how steady a man is, it flies up and hits him that way once in a while.”