"You're talking rot," said Nick, who knew his man. He also had a fairly thick skin, and such remarks failed to penetrate it. "Have you been playing 'solo' all the way from Sydney and losing, or what's ruffled you?"
"I never play 'solo' or hazards," sneered Bellshaw.
"Well, I do, and I'm considered a fairly good hand at the former. As to hazards, I'll not say much about that. I'm out on the green cloth, out a biggish sum, but I can't leave off. It's in my blood. I must throw the dice sometimes," said Nick.
"More fool you. Where are you going?"
"To the Federal."
Bellshaw smiled grimly.
"What have you got there? Is she nice? bewitching? or just an ordinary filly?" he asked.
"It's a man, a dashed clever fellow, but he's one failing, and it's got fairly hold of him since he's been in Melbourne this time. I've known him come here and never touch a drop the whole blessed time, but he's been knocked out this trip. I'd like to find out the beggar who led him on. I'd give him a piece of my mind," said Nick hotly.
"Haven't you enough to do without wasting your time over a boozer?"
"He's always been a friend of mine; he's done all his expenses in, and hasn't a bean. I mean to see him through, if he'll promise to keep straight until the meeting's over."