dock to-morrow
morning. So tonight I've got to make my killing."

It was the others who made the killing.

I came into the smoking-room about nine o'clock. Talbot alone was
seated. The others were on their feet, and behind them in a wider
semicircle were passengers, the smoking-room stewards and the ship's
purser.

Talbot sat with his back against the bulkhead, his hands in the
pockets of his dinner coat; from the corner of his mouth his long
cigarette-holder was cocked at an impudent angle. There was a tumult
of angry voices, and the eyes of all were turned upon him. Outwardly
at least he met them with complete indifference. The voice of one of
my countrymen, a noisy pest named Smedburg, was raised in excited
accusation.

"When the ship's surgeon first met you," he cried, "you called yourself
Lord Ridley."

"I'll call myself anything I jolly well like," returned Talbot. "If I
choose to dodge reporters, that's my pidgin. I don't have to give my
name to every meddling busybody that--"

"You'll give it to the police, all right," chortled Mr. Smedburg. In the
confident, bullying tones of the man who knows the crowd is with him, he
shouted: "And in the meantime you'll keep out of this smoking-room!"

The chorus of assent was unanimous. It could not be disregarded. Talbot
rose and with fastidious concern brushed the cigarette ashes from his
sleeve. As he moved toward the door he called back: "Only too delighted
to keep out. The crowd in this room makes a gentleman feel lonely."

But he was not to escape with the last word.

His prosecutor pointed his finger at him.

"And the next time you take the name of Adolph Meyer," he shouted, "make
sure first he hasn't a friend on board; some one to protect him from
sharpers and swindlers--"

Talbot turned savagely and then shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, go to the devil!" he called, and walked out into the night.

The purser was standing at my side and, catching my eye, shook his head.

"Bad business," he exclaimed.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I'm told they caught him dealing from the wrong end of the pack," he
said. "I understand they suspected him from the first--seems our surgeon
recognized him--and to-night they had outsiders watching him. The
outsiders claim they saw him slip himself an ace from the bottom of the
pack. It's a pity! He's a nice-looking lad."

I asked what the excited Smedburg had meant by telling Talbot not to
call himself Meyer.

"They accu