"Thanks, no," said Bostwick, "not just yet." He took the chair to which McCoppet waved him. "I must say I'm surprised," he admitted, "to see the numbers of men, the signs of activity, and all the rest of it in a camp so young. And by the way, it seems young Kent is away."
"Yes," said the gambler, settling deeply into his chair and sleepily observing his visitor. "I sent him away last week."
Bostwick was eager.
"On something good for the—for our little group?"
"On a wild goose séance," answered McCoppet. "He's in the way around here."
"Oh," said Bostwick, who failed to understand. "I thought——"
"Yes. I culled your thought from your letters," interrupted his host drawlingly. "We might as well understand each other first as last. Bostwick—are you out here to work this camp my way or the kid's?"
Bostwick was cautious. "How does he wish to work it?"
"Like raising potatoes."
"And your plan is——"