other three, more cosmopolitan in carriage. The voice, too, though it gave the few low directions with a roughness and menace, assumed for the sake of command, was smoother and ice-cold. Even his silhouette seemed more crisply cut.
"Will Huntington show up?" he asked.
"Couldn't keep him away," the first responded, "he's spilin' to win back some u' that wad he lost the other night."
"Well, start things when I give the signal—just throw a scare into him, but don't beat him up." Then, as in the teeth of the wind that blew up the alley, he lighted his cigarette with a deftness that somehow seemed consonant with the crispness of his voice, of his very silhouette, and symbolic of skill in many things, he added,—"Use your usual discretion. Pete."
"All right, cap, we're on."
He left, and a little later, the trio lounged out of the alley, and sauntered towards the beach.
