"That's mighty poor whisky. It's like the game—bad."
Thatford said:
"Let's go and have a little lunch and a good drink to wash out that vile stuff."
"Will you go with us?" said Girard.
"You must excuse me, gentlemen; I am a stranger. I cannot thrust myself upon you."
"It's no thrusting; we would be glad to have you join us. Thatford and I are no strangers in New York. Really, I am glad to have met you. I know a good fellow when I meet him. I am a sort of mind reader in picking out thoroughbreds."
"If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I will decline your invitation. I thought I'd drop around to the theater and see the closing act."
"That ain't a bad scheme. We'll go with you and have a little cold snack afterward."
As the men had invited our hero to accompany them he could not well refuse to permit them to accompany him, especially in view of the little plan he had settled to act in regard to them.
The three men did proceed to a theater, and our hero was surprised to see one of the men, Girard, bow to a very innocent-looking and beautiful girl who was in a private box in company with quite a stylish party. Girard was a good-looking man and he dressed with faultless taste. No one would suspect him as a rogue on his appearance, and besides his manners were excellent—quite gentlemanly.