"Dick, I fetched Lane up for a little game," put in Pepper, with composure.
Swann jerked as violently out of his stiffened posture as he had frozen into it. His face changed--showed comprehension--relief--then flamed with anger.
"Pepper, it's a damn high-handed imposition for you to bring strangers here," he burst out.
"Well, I'm sorry you take it that way," replied Pepper, with deprecatory spreading of his hands. He was quite cool and his little eyes held a singular gleam. "You never kicked before when I brought a stranger."
Swann fiercely threw down his cigarette.
"Hell! I told you never to bring any Middleville man in here."
"Ahuh! I forgot. You'll have to excuse me," returned Pepper, not with any particular regret.
"What's the matter with my money?" queried Lane, ironically, at last removing his steady gaze from Swann to the others. Mackay was there, and Holt Dalrymple, the boy in whom Lane had lately interested himself. Holt resembled his sister in his dark rich coloring, but his face wore a shade of sullen depression. The other two young men Lane had seen in Middleville, but they were unknown to him.
"Pepper, you beat it with your new pard," snarled Swarm. "And you'll not get in here again, take that from me."
The mandate nettled Pepper, who evidently felt more deeply over this situation than had appeared on the surface.