the state-rooms of a steamboat. These doors led
into small apartments, carpeted, lighted, and containing four chairs and
a card-table, with a pack of cards.

"You are perfectly private here, gentlemen."

"Yes," replied Quirk, seating himself with the air of a man who has
bought his comfort, and means to enjoy it. "Ah, Quibbles, what shall we
do for cigars? I forgot them."

"We have some prime Havanas, sir; how many did you order?"

"Oh, bring me half a dozen; that's enough after wine."

Quibbles departed on his mission.

"This is a nice place, Pratt, to tell secrets in; don't you think so?"

"I do, indeed," said Arthur, looking around with a knowing air, and
thrumming on the table with his fingers.

The clerk at this moment returned with cigars and wine glasses, and drew
the cork of the wine bottle.

"Quibbles."

"Yes, sir."

"Has Clinton been here to-night?"

"Not yet."

"When he comes tell him we are here, and send him in, will you?"

Quibbles bowed, and retired.

"Is that the proprietor of this establishment, Quirk?" asked Arthur,
helping himself to a glass of wine.

"Ho, ho, bless your heart, no. The proprietor is one of the pillars of
an up-town church, and would feel his reputation ruined, and himself
disgraced, if seen behind the counter of such a concern. He hires this
man to play proprietor, and keeps the place open for the benefit of
those who prefer bar-rooms to churches. You see, Christians go into
anything that pays well, here."

Arthur bent over his glass with something like a frown on his young
brow; then holding his wine up between his eye and the light, he shook
it slowly, and watched the ruddy reflection playing on his hand.

"Didn't I hear you ask if Clinton had been here, Quirk?"

"Aye, just so."

"Does he frequent this place?"

"Well, between you and me, he does."

"Does he use these?" said Arthur, lifting a few of the cards, and
letting them fall slowly through his fingers.

"Well, sometimes he does one thing, sometimes another; you see this is a
very extensive establishment, and sometimes he drinks in the saloon,
sometimes gambles in here, and sometimes passes the evening up stairs
with the ladies, and occasionally does all in the course of an evening.
He's a fine fellow, I tell you; a fast un, though."

"What ladies are in the house, the family of the man out yonder?"

"Ha! ha! ha!" roared Quirk, uproariously; "what a prime innocent it is,
though. Why, my boy, th