"Wayward took it out of me in 'Preference' this morning while Garry was out courting. I'd better liquidate to-night, hadn't I, Billy?"
"Certainly," said Portlaw.
The other shook his head. "I'll get it all back at Miami, of course. In the mean time—if you don't mind letting me have enough to square things—"
Portlaw hesitated, balancing his bulk uneasily first on one foot, then the other.
"I don't mind; no; only—"
"Only what?" asked Malcourt. "I told you I couldn't afford to play cards on this trip, but you insisted."
"Certainly, certainly! I expected to consider you as—as—"
"I'm your general manager and I'm ready at all times to earn my salary. If you think it best to take me away from the estate for a junketing trip and make me play cards you can do it of course; but if you think I'm here to throw my money overboard I'm going back to-morrow!"
"Nonsense," said Portlaw; "you're not going back. There's nothing doing in winter up there that requires your personal attention—"
"It's a bad winter for the deer—I ought to be there now—"