A big, lumbering, broad-shouldered young fellow was coming up the stairs behind O'Hara, a blank book and some papers tucked under his arm, and O'Hara nodded to him and opened Mr. Lacy's door without further parleying.
"Here's Westguard, now," he said; "and as we can't shoot landlords in the close season we'll have to make arrangements to pay for bed and board, Jack."
Lacy glanced up from the sheet of figures before him, then waved his guests to seats and lighted a cigarette.
"Hooray," he remarked to Westguard; "I can draw you a check, Karl, and live to tell the tale." And he rose and gave his place at the desk to the man addressed, who seated himself heavily, as though tired.
"Before we go over the accounts," he began, "I want to say a word or two——"
"Hadn't you better wait till Quarren comes in?" interrupted O'Hara, smoking and stretching out his long legs.
"No; I want to talk to you two fellows first. And I'll tell you at once what's the matter: Quarren's check came back marked 'no funds.' This is the third time; and one of us ought to talk to him."
"It's only a slip," said Lacy—"it's the tendency in him that considers the lilies of the field——"
"It isn't square," said Westguard doggedly.
"Nonsense, Karl, Rix means to be square——"