“You'd better stop this,” said the mate quietly.
“Oh, come, we're just having a friendly game! What right have you to break into a private room, anyway?”
The mate, stooping within the doorway, took the boy in with thoughtful eyes, but did not reply directly.
Connor, with another look upward, picked up the cards, and with the uncanny mental quickness of a practised croupier redistributed the heap of money to its original owners, and squeezed out without a word, the mate moving aside for him. The German left sulkily. The Kid snapped his fingers in disgust, and followed.
Doane was moving away when the Kid caught his elbow. He asked: “Did Benjamin send you around?”
Doane inclined his head.
“Running things with a pretty high hand, you and him!”
“Keep away from that boy,” was the quiet reply.
The thin man looked up at the grave strong face above the massive shoulders; hesitated; walked away. The mate was again about to leave when young Kane spoke. He was in the doorway now, leaning there, hands in pockets, his eyes blazing with indignation and injured pride.
“Those men were my guests!” he cried.