Mark smiled.
"I hope you have no business with him," he said.
"I owe him seventy-five dollars, and I don't know how on earth I am going to pay him."
"What do you owe him that for?"
"For bets on games of billiards."
"This Hamilton Schuyler, as he calls himself, is an adventurer, a swindler, and a thief. His family is not as good as yours or mine."
"Is this true?" asked Edgar stupefied.
"Yes. Don't trouble yourself about what you owe him. Appoint a meeting for him to-morrow evening at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. I will go there and meet him with you. I'll get you out of your scrape."
"Do that, Mark, and I'll be your friend for life. I'll never treat you meanly again."