One morning, with pale face and stammering lips, quite unlike his wonted self, he asked Burroughs for the loan of a hundred dollars.
"All right, old man," said his friend, determinedly cheerful, "but aren't you going the pace rather?"
"What do you mean?" demanded Errington hotly, his old resentment at restraint flaming forth.
"Well, it's no affair of mine, of course, but it's a pity, don't you think, to let that fellow Reinhardt get the whip hand of you?"
"Confound you, why are you always girding at Reinhardt? What's he done to you? Anybody would think he's an ogre, waiting to crunch my bones, to hear you talk." He ignored the fact that for months Burroughs had not once opened his mouth on the subject. "What's a fellow to do if he can't enjoy a harmless game? It's all straight; you don't suppose I'd play with sharpers; and one can't always win. You don't want me to shirk it when I lose, I suppose? I tell you what it is: you're getting mean and miserly; you're afraid you won't get your beastly money back."
"You know me better than that, Pidge," said Burroughs quietly. "You're a bit off colour, old chap. Here's your hundred; pay me when you like."
If Errington had obeyed his impulse at that moment he would have apologized to Burroughs, and renounced Reinhardt and all his works once and for ever. But shame, the sense of being in the wrong, false pride, and above all the gambler's perpetual hope of success, tied his tongue, and the precious moment slipped away.
Burroughs was very much surprised to get his money back within a few days--before, as he knew, Errington had received any further remittances from Shanghai.
"Much obliged, Moley," Errington said as he laid the notes beside his friend's plate one morning.
Burroughs glanced up, but Errington would not meet his eye; so with a "Thanks, old man!" as casual as Errington's own remark, he put the notes into his pocket and began cheerfully to talk shop. But he was much disturbed in mind. If his chum had won the money, it would encourage him to go on gambling. If he had not won it, how had he obtained it so soon? Burroughs hoped with all his heart that he had not borrowed of Reinhardt or any other German of the set. It was bad enough that Reinhardt should entice his subordinate to play at all; and the low opinion that Burroughs held of him fell still lower.