"You know Mr. Ting, of course?" said Errington presently.
"Ting Chuh? oh yes, of course," replied the German; and Burroughs, closely observant, noticed a scarcely perceptible constraint in his manner. "An excellent man of business; a little difficult, perhaps. I remember, he was your fazer's comprador, Mr. Errington. You have nozink now to do wiz him?"
"Not officially, if that's what you mean: but he's kept up a correspondence with me, and it was he that got me this crib with your firm."
"Indeed! Zen zat is a great compliment to ze firm, and, if I may say so, also to you. Ting is a good man of business, highly respected. To place you wiz us shows zat he has a great opinion of us, and also of you. Zis information interests me extremely."
From this time forth Mr. Reinhardt was often in the boys' company. He was always very pleasant, and they wondered more and more why the majority of the passengers avoided him. But when he began to teach Errington some card games of which he had never before heard, Burroughs felt uneasy. On the first occasion, when he was asked to join them, he declined, and they did not ask him again. Knowing how easily Errington was led, and remembering indications of his having inherited his father's propensity for speculation, he ventured one night to enter a mild protest.
"I say, Pidge," he said, "I don't think I'd play cards much with Reinhardt if I were you."
"Why on earth not? Sixpence is our highest stake: are you afraid of my ruining myself?"
"Of course not, but--well, Reinhardt isn't liked on board; there may be something shady about him."
"Come, that's dashed unfair. You know nothing against the man. For goodness' sake, don't get starchy and puritanical."
The natural boy's horror of seeming preachy or priggish kept Burroughs from saying more; but his manner towards the German grew chilly, and he could not help noticing that Errington was somewhat nettled at his friendly warning. One day, for his own satisfaction, he put a question bluntly to the captain, with whom he was on good terms.