"Nothing remarkable," I said, laughing. "Did you come to terms with Mr. Rutgers for his meadows?"
"No," he replied irritably, "and I care nothing for his damned swamps full of briers and mud and woodcock."
"It is just as well," I said. "You can not afford more land at present."
"That's true," he admitted cheerfully; "I'm spending too much. Gad, Carus, the Fifty-fourth took it out of us at that thousand-guinea main! Which reminds me to say that our birds at Flatbush are in prime condition and I've matched them."
I looked up at him doubtfully. Our birds had brought him nothing but trouble so far.
"Let it pass," he said, noticing my silent disapproval; "we'll talk to Horrock in the morning. Which reminds me that I have no money." He laughed, drew a paper from his coat, and unfolding it, read aloud:
| "1 pipe Madeira | @ £90 per pipe—£90 |
| 1 pipe Port | @ £46 per pipe—£46 |
| 20 gallons Fayal | @ 5s. per gal.— |
| 20 gallons Lisbon | @ 5s. per gal.— |
| 10 gallons Windward I. rum | @ 4s. per gal." |
He yawned and tossed the paper on my dresser, saying, "Pay it, Carus. If our birds win the main we'll put the Forty-fifth under the table, and I'll pay a few debts."
Standing there he stretched to his full graceful height, yawning once or twice. "I'll go bathe, and dress for supper," he said; "that should freshen me. Shall we rake it to-night?"
"I'm for cards," I said carelessly.