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"Gladwyne and I are quite willing to give you your chance," was Batley's quick reply; but Lisle unceremoniously laid his hand on Crestwick's shoulder. "Come along," he urged, laughing. "Luck's against you; you've had quite enough." He had the lad out of the door in another moment, and looking back from the landing he saw a curious look in Gladwyne's face which he thought was one of disgust.
Nasmyth had his failings, but he had also his simple, drastic code, and it was repugnant to him that a man of his own caste, one of a family he had long known and respected, should countenance an outsider of Batley's kind and assist him in fleecing a silly vicious lad. "You have no reason to think well of Gladwyne," Lisle reminded him. "I haven't," Nasmyth owned.
"I regret that we have added to your anxiety," he began. "Of course, transport is a serious difficulty I've had some little experience of this kind of thing." "In the field?" Lisle asked bluntly. "I've had a suspicion of it. Then why didn't you remember?" He saw Batley's smile, for they were standing by the packers' fire. "Oh," he added, "you needn't trouble to shield Gladwyne.
"As you didn't fix a time limit, we'll go on again, though it's getting tame and I want some tea." "I'll increase the interest again, if you like," the lad replied. Lisle joined the group. "What's it all about?" he asked. "Batley's a pretty good rifle shot, but if he won't mind my saying so he's a little opinionated," Gladwyne explained.
You can trust me." "We'll let it go at that," replied Lisle. "But I'll keep my eye on you." Batley's gesture implied that he would not object to this, and he turned away, leaving the Canadian to walk back to Nasmyth's thoughtfully. Lisle did not think he had done Gladwyne much harm by his tacit admissions, and he had some degree of confidence in Batley's assurance.
Crestwick is using an easy-triggered rifle; Batley's has an unusually hard spring." Lisle considered. Remembering Bella's remarks, he thought it would be easy to lure the lad into a rash bet. He was headstrong and his manners might have been more conciliatory, but Lisle, learning the amount of the stakes, decided that his host should not have let the thing go so far.
Lisle was aware that while there was something to be said for Batley's view, Crestwick was justified in contending that the lighter tension was more adapted to the case of the average person; but he recognized that the indulgent manner of the older men was calculated, he thought intentionally, to exasperate the hot-headed lad.
"It's an Indian word for a river gorge. I went up it not long ago." "Then," exclaimed Crestwick, "I suppose you know the mine?" Lisle glanced at the others. Their eyes were fixed upon him, Batley's steadily, Gladwyne's with a hint of uneasiness. It was, he felt, a remarkable piece of good fortune that had given him control of the situation. "Yes," he answered carelessly, "I know the mine."
He saw Batley's smile and a somewhat curious look in Gladwyne's face, but the group broke up and he strolled back across the lawn with Bella. "I'm grateful," she said softly. "I was a little afraid at first that I was asking too much of you." Lisle met her glance with a good assumption of surprise. "Grateful? Because I indulged in a rather enjoyable match?" She laughed. "You learn rapidly.
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