Two more members, a banker and the editor of one of the big dailies, joined them, refreshments were ordered, and to Storm’s relief the talk drifted off on general topics; but he studied George furtively. If he had heard, would he accept Storm’s denial that he had been victimized by Du Chainat? The lawyer had evidently remained skeptical, but he was not as conversant with Storm’s affairs and financial position as was George. If the latter believed that his friend had been hard hit, would he not naturally wonder where he had obtained the money for the long overseas trip he contemplated, and wondering, blunder upon the truth?
A half hour passed, the little group broke up and Storm and his companion were on the point of departure when a hearty, good-humored voice boomed from the doorway and an elderly man with a bluff military swagger bore down upon them.
“Great Guns, Storm, but it’s good to see you here again! I wrote you—you got my letter?—when I heard of your loss. Terrible thing, terrible! Damn fine little lady——”
He paused, clearing his throat and clapping Storm resoundingly on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Colonel; yes, I received your letter,” the latter responded. “Meant to reply to it, but George here can tell you that I’ve been rather unsettled——”
“Heard you had moved to town and taken somebody’s rooms up on the Drive,” Colonel Walker interrupted. “We’ve needed you here for a fourth at bridge; had to take on Paine, and he’s rotten——”
“I like that!” the editor retorted indignantly. “Who revoked twice in one evening——?”
“That was because we were playing for low stakes. I’m never on my mettle unless the game is away over my head.” The Colonel laughed and added: “Saw you the other night, Storm, and tried to hail you but you got away in the crowd. I wanted to drag you off to a stag house party up in Westchester. Let’s see; that was last Wednesday night, over by the Grand Central Station——”
“You must have been mistaken!” Storm interrupted hastily. He could feel George’s eyes upon him, and this fresh turn of affairs left him aghast.
“No, I’m not,” Colonel Walker insisted bluntly. “It was Wednesday night, I remember, just around dinner time, for it was raining like blazes and you were dodging along under your umbrella——”