A man could
whip a brigade of those greasers into shape and become a power. There
ought to be good chances for loot.
Yet Hollister enjoyed his company. Rutherford was genial. He was the
first man for long to accept Hollister as a human being. He promised
to look Hollister up again before he went away.
The world actually seemed cheerful to Hollister, after Rutherford had
gone,--until in moving about the room he caught sight of his face in
the mirror.
CHAPTER III
About ten days later Tommy Rutherford walked into Hollister's room at
eight in the evening. He laid his cap and gloves on the bed, seated
himself, swung his feet to and fro for a second, and reached for one
of Hollister's cigarettes.
"It's a hard world, old thing," he complained. "Here was I all set for
an enjoyable winter. Nice people in Vancouver. All sorts of fetching
affairs on the tapis. And I'm to be demobilized myself next week.
Chucked out into the blooming street with a gratuity and a couple of
medals. Damn the luck."
He remained absorbed in his own reflections for a minute, blowing
smoke rings with meticulous care.
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