Page:Guy Boothby--A Bid for Fortune.djvu/28

18 perfect gentleman he was, as far as manners went, I can assure you!

"Been long in Sydney?" he enquired casually, looking at me, and, at the same time, stroking his fair moustache.

"Just come in," was my reply.

"Don't you find it dull work?" he continued. "I shall never forget my first week in it."

"You're about right. It is dull! I don't know a soul bar my banker and lawyer in the town."

"Dear me!" (more curling of the moustache). "If I can be of any service to you while you're here, I hope you'll command me. For the sake of 'Auld Lang Syne,' don't you know. I believe we're both Englishmen, eh?"

"It's very good of you," I replied modestly, affecting to be overcome by his condescension. "I'm just off to lunch. I am staying at the 'Quebec.' Is it far enough for a hansom?" As he was about to answer, a lawyer, with whom I had done a little business the day before, walked into the room. I turned to my patronising friend and said, "Will you excuse me for just one moment, I want to speak to this gentleman on business; I'll join you outside."

He was still all graciousness.

"I'll call a hansom and wait for you in it."

When he had left the saloon I spoke to the new arrival. He had noticed the man I was talking to and was kind enough to warn me against him.

"That man," he said, "bears a very bad reputation. He makes it his trade to meet new arrivals from England—weak-brained young pigeons with money. He shows them round Sydney and plucks them so clean that when they leave his hands, in nine cases out of ten, they