“And I him. He's a fine fellow, isn't he?”
“A whiter man—or a better gentleman—never put foot in a stirrup. I've got to like him very much. And he thinks no end of you. Says you're the best scrub rider he ever saw.”
Gerrard laughed. “'Praise from him is praise indeed.' All I can say is that I have never seen anyone who can go through scrub or thick timber like Randolph Aulain. Where is he staying?”
“Here—at the Queen's. He's had a terrible time with fever, and can't do more than sit up. We'll go and see him presently.”
“Oh, yes! But I want to speak to you on a matter of some importance first. That is why I have ventured to come to your hotel. I did go to the Clarion office, but just missed you.”
“I'm only too delighted to see you, even if you were not Westonley's brother-in-law. You know that he and I were at Rugby together, and then at Oxford? But, before I say anything else, when does your steamer leave?”
“This afternoon at four o'clock; but I am not going on in her. I'm in somewhat of a hole, and I felt sure you would assist me.”
“Indeed I will. I'm not flush. This blessed rag of mine doesn't pay, but I can raise a hundred from the bank here.”
Gerrard laughed. “No, not that, Mr Lacey. I'm not 'broke,' and it is not money I want. At the same time I appreciate your generosity. Ted has often told me you would do any mortal thing for a friend in need.” He paused, and then began, “Mr Lacey——”
“Drop the 'Mr' please.”