“You are right. He is. I thought he would win the cup to-day.”
“The bird that knocked him out was badly hit. If he had killed it, he would have won second money.”
The young Englishman lay back, stretched himself, and yawned. “I’m getting fed up with this place,” he said at last. “I shall get back to England in a day or two. How long shall you remain here?”
“It depends—partly on Dago. We’re running a sort of syndicate together, you know—or probably you don’t know. He has to see one or two men here about it before we leave.”
“What sort of syndicate?”
“I am afraid I’m not at liberty to tell you—yet. I can tell you this—though, we have a lady interested in it, a very pretty girl. That ought to appeal to you,” and he laughed.
“Have I seen her?” the young man asked, looking at him curiously.
His companion pondered. Then suddenly he exclaimed—
“Why, yes—of course you have. She was playing trente-et-quarante the other night, and nothing could stop her winning. She won a maximum and went on and on, simply raking in the money. You and I were there together. I am sure you must remember.”
“That girl!”