“Pah!” he exclaimed. “Such a coarse drink, and so extremely deleterious to the lining of the stomach! Never indulge in crude gin, Clarence. That fellow is half seas over as it is. He’ll be put out directly.” He watched the man drain his glass at a swallow and barely touch his lips with the chaser. Then, dismissing the fellow from his mind, he returned to the matter in hand, first, however, mixing himself another high ball, which he consumed in leisurely sips while he talked. He would have been somewhat astonished had he known that the object of his criticism at the bar had performed a swift substitution of the glasses under his very eye, and, instead of drinking the gin, he had swallowed the chaser; and presently, when his order was repeated, the full glass of gin was dumped into the slops by the bartender under the impression that it was water, and another glassful poured out. “Splendid success,” Edgerton chuckled. “I laid out every cent I could beg, borrow, or steal, at bully odds. I should say about two thousand odd, including everything. Now, if you’ve only done your part as well, we’ll be in Easy Street this time to-morrow night.” Carr’s eyes sparkled. “Great!” he exclaimed. “Don’t be afraid, Edge. I’ve got things fixed so that the whole team is at loggerheads. I’ve worked Kenny every minute I could be with him, and kept that grouch of his nursed as if it was a precious hothouse flower. The poor fool has never suspected me for an instant. Thinks I have a sweetly sympathetic nature. I think there’s hardly a doubt that we’ll win out, and then for another try at that game of the Bluebell mining stock.” Edgerton chuckled, and raised the glass to his lips. “Good! We’ll place a few little bets here and there to-morrow among the confiding village people, providing, of course, they don’t insist on being shown the coin. Altogether, it ought to be a pretty nice little rake-off.” The man at the bar seemed to have had enough gin. With unsteady gait and leering eye, he passed the table and made his way toward the door. As he reached it, he caught his foot and nearly fell. The next moment he had lurched out into the darkness. On the pavement outside a surprising transformation took place. The fellow straightened up suddenly, and, with a sweep of his hand, pushed his hat up from where it hung over one ear. Then he started down the street at a rapid walk, which was almost a run. There was not the slightest sign of intoxication in his gait. “By Jove!” he muttered. “That’s their game, is it? Thank Heaven I’ve found it out! What a pair of blacklegs!” He glanced swiftly at a near-by clock. It was almost eight. “Gee!” he exclaimed, under his breath. “I’ve got to catch him before he leaves for the meeting.” The next instant he turned into one of the gates of Vanderbilt, dashed up the drive, and cleared the steps at a bound. Upstairs he went, lickety-split, and reached Kenny’s floor just as the quarter back opened the door and stepped out.