In his turn, Mr. Osborne was staring at Mr. Philpotts.
"Not unless he came back by the same boat which brought Deecie's letter. What made you ask?"
"I only wondered."
Mr. Philpotts turned again to the paper. The other went on.
"It seems that a lot of Australian sporting men were on the boat on which they went out. Fleming got in with them. They played--he played too. Deecie remonstrated--but he says that it only seemed to make bad worse. At first Geoff won--you know the usual sort of thing; he wound up by losing all he had, and about four hundred pounds beside. He had the cheek to ask Deecie for the money." Mr. Osborne paused. Mr. Philpotts uttered a sound which might have been indicative of contempt--or anything. "Deecie says that when the winners found out that he couldn't pay, there was a regular row. Geoff swore, in that wild way of his, that if he couldn't pay them before he died, he would rise from the dead to get the money."
Mr. Philpotts looked round with a show of added interest.
"What was that he said?"
"Oh, it was only his wild way of speaking--you know that way of his. If they don't get their money before he dies, and I fancy that it's rather more than even betting that they won't, I don't think that there's much chance of his rising from his grave to get it for them. He'll break that promise, as he has broken so many more. Poor Geoff! It seems that we might as well have kept our money in our pockets; it doesn't seem to have done him much good. His prospects don't look very rosy--without money, and with a bad name to start with."
"As I fancy you have more than once suspected, Frank, I never have had a high opinion of Mr. Geoffrey Fleming. I am not in the least surprised at what you tell me, any more than I was surprised when he came his cropper. I have always felt that, at a pinch, he would do anything to save his own skin." Mr. Osborne said nothing, but he shook his head. "Did you see anything of Bloxham when you came in?"
"I saw him going along the street in a cab."