“I asked Kendall about it that very day, and he denied the report and laughed it to scorn. I could not believe it of him, Nick, and did not.”
“What did your brother banker say, Mr. Gilsey?”
“Merely that he had seen both Kendall and young Harry Royal one evening coming out of a gambling-house said to be owned and run by one Moses Flood.”
“Ha! Moses Flood, eh?” muttered Nick, with a curious smile.
“It must have been a mistake,” continued Gilsey, with augmented feeling. “Kendall is not a man of evil inclinations. It is not in his nature to have formed any relations whatever with a scoundrel who gambles for a living, and who runs a resort where——”
“Stop just a moment, Gilsey,” interrupted Nick, with an odd little laugh. “A man of your limited experience is very prone to misjudge men out of his own circle in life.”
“What do you mean, Nick?”
“Just this, my dear Gilsey,” said Nick, more seriously. “I know Moses Flood even better than I know you. Understand me, now, I do not advocate gambling, nor do I defend him as a gambler, for such he certainly is, and in that respect he is an outlaw and a man to be shunned. I am opposed to gambling of all kinds, whether done with cards, or in a pool-room, or on a race-track, or in the stock exchange.”
“Why, certainly, Nick, I already know that,” exclaimed Gilsey, with a surprised expression in his gentle, blue eyes. “But what do you imply of this rascal?”
“Merely this,” smiled Nick. “Aside from his vocation, which in every way I despise, Moses Flood is not a rascal. I know what I am talking about, Gilsey. Flood is a man whose word is as good as any man’s bond. He is as square a man as ever stood in leather. If he wanted to borrow half my fortune till to-morrow, with no better security than his word alone, he could have it, and I should sleep soundly to-night, knowing that he had it.”