unmoved.

Nesbitt walked straight up to the table at which Malcolmson and Wingrave
were sitting. He halted in front of the latter.

"Mr. Wingrave," he said, "you will give me my receipt for those shares
for fifty-seven thousand six hundred dollars."

Wingrave turned to a paper by his side, and ran his forefinger down the
list of names.

"Mr. Nesbitt," he said. "Yes! sixty thousand dollars."

The young man laid a slip of paper upon the table.

"That is a certified check for the amount," he said. "Mr. Malcolmson,
please give me my receipt."

"Ah!" Mr. Wingrave remarked. "I thought that you would find the money."

Nesbitt bit his lip, but he said nothing till he had the receipt and
had fastened it up in his pocket. Then he turned suddenly round upon
Wingrave.

"Look here!" he said. "You've got your money. I don't owe you a cent.
Now I'm going to tell you what I think of you."

Wingrave rose slowly to his feet. He was as tall as the boy, long, lean,
and hard. His face expressed neither anger nor excitement, but there was
a slight, dangerous glitter in his deep-set eyes.

"If you mean," he said, "that you are going to be impertinent, I would
recommend you to change your mind."

Nesbitt for a moment hesitated. There was something ominous in the cool
courage of the older man. And before he could collect himself, Wingrave
continued:--

"I presume," he said, "that you chose your own profession. You knew
quite well there was no place in it for men with a sense of the higher
morality. It is a profession of gamblers and thieves. If you'd won,
you'd have thought yourself a smart fellow and pocketed your winnings
fast enough. Now that you've lost--don't whine. You sat down willingly
enough to play the game with me. Don't call me names because you lost.
This is no place for children. Pocket your defeat, and be more careful
next time."

Nesbitt was silent for a moment. Wingrave, cool and immovable, dominated
him. He gave a little laugh, and turned towards the door.

"Guess you're right," he declared; "we'll let it go at that."

Aynesworth followed him from the room.

"I'm awfully glad you're out of the scrape," he said.

Nesbitt caught him by the arm.

"Come right along," he said. "I haven't had a drink in the daytime for
a year, but we're going to have a big one now. I say, do you know how I
got that money?"

Aynesworth shook his head.

"On easy terms, I hope."

They sat down in the American Bar, and a col