“And I said it to show I can be a friend to those I like. I’ve known you a long time, and now when I’ve had a chance to show you that I’m a friend you can’t afford to chuck me.”
He jumped up and went near to her.
“No more faro for me—no cards any more,” he said, dusting his hands before her. “I know you haven’t liked to have me do it.”
“I have never made any remarks to you about your affairs, Mr. Keedy. It’s only when my father gets mixed into them that I protest.”
“I reckon that after all the years I’ve dealt crooked for the sake of the bank I’ve got the right to deal crooked for once in my life to help my friends,” muttered Keedy. “But I’m all done with faro, I tell you, Kama. We’re all going to be rich. I want you to remember that I’ve done my full share in this thing.”
Captain Holstrom banged the sacks of coin upon the table.
“You bet you have, Marcena. And you’re my partner. I stand by you. I never saw a girl yet who didn’t have foolish notions. But they grow out of them.” He winked at Keedy. “This money goes down on the old Zizania to-morrow morning. She’s ours from snout to tail—from keelson to pennant block. And she’s going to make our everlasting fortunes. You shall see, Kama, my girl!”
For a moment she stood there, her eyes narrowed, her cheeks flaming up, as fine a picture of protesting and indignant maidenhood as I ever laid eyes on. Then she compressed her lips and choked back an outburst.
“Yes, I shall see,” she said at last. “For I shall go on board the Zizania, and stay there and watch you, father, and try to keep you out of State’s prison for the sake of my poor dead mother.”
“It has been all right for you to live with me aboard the tug,” growled Captain Holstrom, blinking sourly at her. “But this is a different proposition. This is going to be a man’s game.”