“I guess not,” he said. “It’s good of you, but commercial speculation never was in my line. I’m afraid you must count me out of this.”
“What! You’re going to tell——”
“No,” said Jimmy, “I’m not. I’m not a vigilance committee. I won’t tell a soul.”
“Why, then——” began Hargate, relieved.
“Unless, of course,” Jimmy went on, “you play billiards again while you’re here.”
“But, damn it, man! if I don’t, what’s the good? Look here, what am I to do if they ask me to play?”
“Give your wrist as an excuse.”
“My wrist?”
“Yes. You sprained it to-morrow after breakfast. It was bad luck. I wonder how you came to do it? You didn’t sprain it much, but just enough to stop you playing billiards.”
Hargate reflected.