had an
ingenuous look, which was rather an advantage, since it suited the part
he meant to play. He did not want people to think him clever, but they
must not suspect that he was pretending to be dull. Remembering his
mistakes, he smiled as he admitted that there was not much danger of
this. By and by Telford came in and sat down in the next chair.

"Nothing doing this morning and the street's all mush," he said. "If
you're not busy, would you like a game of pool?"

Foster agreed. His only business was to find out Telford's, and the
man had given him an opportunity. The pool room is an institution in
Canadian towns, but is not, as a rule, much frequented in the morning
when trade is good. They had no trouble in getting a table and began
to play for a small stake, which Telford insisted on. Foster did not
know much about pool, and indeed had seldom had time for games, but he
had a steady hand and, somewhat to his surprise, won. Telford, who
raised the stake, won the next game, but was afterwards beaten.

In the meantime, Foster had studied his game. The man made some clever
strokes, but bungled others. He was not steady enough, but on the
whole Foster imagined he meant to let him win. For all that, he did
not think the other was playing a common trick with the object of
leading him on. The amount of the stake was not large enough for this.

"Well," said Telford, "I guess you're too good for me. Suppose we sit
down and take a smoke. I'll play you again another day."

"What you want to do is to let up on the drinks the night before,"
remarked a man who was standing by. "If you were as cool and steady as
he is, you'd beat him easy."

"Perhaps that's so," said Telford with a good-humored laugh and gave
Foster a cigar.

"Are you going to make expenses this trip?" he asked.

"I can't say yet," Foster replied. "Anyhow, you don't lose much by
taking a look round, and I sometimes go outside my regular line."

"Well, if you feel like speculating in building lots, I might put you
wise."

Foster pondered. He knew that gambling on unused land was popular in
Canada, in spite of taxes planned to prevent it, and while there are
respectable real estate agents, the fringe of the profession is
occupied by sharpers who prey upon what is fast becoming a national
vice. Confiding strangers with money to invest are often swindled, and
there was an obvious motive for Telford's trying to cultivate his
acquaintance.