Upon each arrival in England he made a practise of going to London and living like a gentleman for a week or two—for he had still some money left—until the life became unbearable to him, and back he would go to his cattle-boats and human cattle.
"There's the whole thing," he concluded with a bitter smile. "A fool paying for his folly, that's all. Still want me?"
"Yes," came the quiet answer. "I think we're well mated, Hammer; but, to make sure, suppose we make this a trial cruise together. You'll never find any ambition aboard a bally cattle-boat, that's sure, and you might better go to hell decently, if you're bound to go.
"However, you're a real man, and I like you. My offer stands; only, don't you know, I want your word that you won't drink while you're with me. I mean—er—well, drinking in a beastly fashion——"
"I get you, old man," chuckled Hammer quickly. "Suppose we put it that I can drink as much as you do, but no more, eh? All right, then—but I've really no great inclination for drink in itself. You have my word of honour, such as it is—and here's a toast in coffee to the Daphne and the daffy Dutchman!"
"Done!" cried Harcourt in undisguised delight, but as he raised his cup Bucks approached with a whispered word and a card. Harcourt frowned, glancing at the latter.
"'John Solomon'—who the devil is John Solomon? Who is he, Bucks?"
"A rather queer person, sir," replied the head-waiter sagely. "I might let him wait in a private room, sir!"
"All right, do so. We'll be out in a moment—confounded nuisance! How did the fellow come to look me up here? By Jove, Hammer, the unmitigated insolence of some——"
"Cool off," laughed the American. "Here, have another cigarette before we go, and we can investigate your friend after we finish. Funny name, John Solomon!"