Spencer leaned over toward the iron-master. "Tell you what," he said; "I've changed my mind about the trip to England to-morrow. Get up that game with Bower. I'll stand the racket myself unless you want to go half shares." "Done! I should like to have an interest in it. Not that I am pining for Bower's money, and it may be that he will win ours; but I am keen on giving him a sharp run. At Nice last January not a soul in the Casino would go Banco when he opened a big bank. They were afraid of him." While he was speaking, Dunston's shrewd eyes dwelt on the younger man's unmoved face. He wondered what had caused this sudden veering of purpose. It was certainly not the allurement of heavy gambling, for Spencer had declined the proposal as coolly as he now accepted it. Being a man of the world, he thought he could peer beneath the mask. To satisfy himself, he harked back to the personal topic. "By the way, does anyone know who Miss Wynton is?" he said. "That inveterate gossip, Mrs. Vavasour, who can vouch for every name in the Red Book, says she is a lady journalist." "That, at any rate, is correct," said the vicar. "In fact, Miss Wynton herself told me so." "Jolly fine girl, whatever she is. To give Bower his due, he has always been a person of taste." "I have reason to believe," said Spencer, "that Miss Wynton's acquaintance with Mr. Bower is of the slightest." His words were slow and clear. Dunston, sure now that his guess was fairly accurate, hastened to efface an unpleasant impression. "Of course, I only meant that if Bower is seen talking to any woman, it may be taken for granted that she is a pretty one," he explained. "But who's for a drink? Perhaps we shall meet our expected opponent in the bar, Mr. Spencer." "I have some letters to write. Fix that game for to-morrow or next day, and I'll be on hand." Dunston and Holt paid the few shillings they owed, and went out. Hare did not move. He looked anxious, almost annoyed. "It is exceedingly ridiculous how circumstances pass beyond a man's control occasionally," he protested. "Am I right in assuming that until this evening neither Bower nor Dunston was known to you, Mr. Spencer?" "Absolutely correct, vicar. I have never yet spoken to Bower, and you heard all that passed between Dunston and myself." "Then my harmless invitation to you to join in a game at cards has led directly to an arrangement for play at absurdly high figures?" "It seems to me, Mr. Hare, that Bower's tracks and mine are destined to cross in more ways than one in the near future," said Spencer coolly. But the vicar was not to be switched away from the new thought that was troubling him. "I will not ask what you mean," he said, gazing steadfastly at the American. "My chief concern is the outcome of my share in this evening's pleasant amusement. I cannot shut my ears to the fact that you have planned the loss or gain of some thousands of pounds on the turn of a card at baccarat."