"Cards? Yes, I know a few games. But about Hammond? What sort of person is he?"
"What sort would he be, to bring a lad like you up here to work for him for almost nothing? But it ain't no affair of mine! D'ye know black-jack?"
"Well, I've heard of it."
"All right."
White piled the dishes on a corner of the table and dealt from a pack of cards very much the worse for wear. Jim produced his cigarette case, opened it and extended it.
Both young men were intent on the game when it was disturbed by the opening of the door. The air was blue with smoke, and Harvey White was the first to look up from his hand. Then Jim turned and saw the intruder standing silent on the threshold. Jim glanced back at his host and was puzzled by the mixed expressions of chagrin and amusement and defiance on the other's face.
"I'm lookin' for James Todhunter," said the stranger.
"That's my name," said Jim, standing up. "Have you been sent for me by Mr. Hammond of Millbrook?"
"Sent for ye? I'm Amos Hammond," returned the man at the door.
"Oh! I beg your pardon!" exclaimed Jim, and Harvey White sniggered.