The thin man looked up at the grave strong face above the massive shoulders; hesitated; walked away. The mate was again about to leave when young Kane spoke. He was in the doorway now, leaning there, hands in pockets, his eyes blazing with indignation and injured pride. “Those men were my guests!” he cried. “I'm sorry, Mr. Kane, to disturb your private affairs, but--” “Why did you do it, then?” “The captain will not allow Tex Connor to play cards on this boat. At least, not without a fair warning.” The boy's face pictured the confusion in his mind, as he wavered from anger through surprise into youthful curiosity. “Oh....” he murmured. “Oh.... so that's Tex Connor.” “Yes. And Jim Watson with him. He was cashiered from the army in the Philippines. He is generally known now, along the coast, as the Manila Kid.” “So that's Tex Connor!.... He managed the North End Sporting in London, three years ago.” “Very likely. I believe he is known in London and Paris.” “He's a professional gambler, then?” “I am not undertaking to characterize him. But if you would accept a word of advice--” “I haven't asked for it, that I'm aware of.” An instant after he had said this, the boy's face changed. He looked up at the immense frame of the man before him, and into the grave face. The warm color came into his own. “Oh, I'm sorry!” he cried. “I needn't have said that.” But confusion still lay behind that immature face. The very presence of this big man affected him to a degree wholly out of keeping with the fellow's station in life, as he saw it. But he needn't have been rude. “Look here, are you going to say anything to my father?” “Certainly not.” “Will the captain?” “You will have to ask him yourself. Though you could hardly expect to keep it from him long, at this rate.” “Well--he's so busy! He shuts himself up all day with Braker, his secretary. The chap with the big spectacles. You see”--Kane laughed self-consciously; a naively boyish quality in him, kept him talking more eagerly than he knew--“the pater's reached the stage when he feels he ought to put himself right before the world. I guess he's been a great old pirate, the pater--you know, wrecking railroads and grabbing banks and going into combinations. Though it's just what all the others have done. From what I've heard about some of them--friends of ours, too!--you have to, nowadays, in business. No place for little men or soft men. It's a two-fisted game. This fellow spent a couple of years writing the pater's autobiography:--seems funny, doesn't it!--and they're going over it together on this trip. That's why Braker came along; there's no time at home. The original plan was to have Braker tutor me. That was when I broke out of college. But, lord!....” “You'll excuse me now,” said the mate. Meantime the Manila Kid had sidled up to the captain. “Say, Cap,” he observed cautiously, “wha'd you come down on Tex like that for?”