They were handsome teeth, though, in some way, they made one think of the teeth of a vicious dog.
"Coming over to the hotel this afternoon ?" continued Duff.
"I--I--" hesitated Clarence.
"Coming, did you say ?" persisted Duff gently.
"I shall have to see my mail first.

There may be letters--" "Oh," nodded Duff, with just a trace of irony as the younger man again hesitated.
"Life is not all playtime for me, you know," Farnsworth continued, looking rather shame-faced.

"I--er--have some business affairs attention at times." "Oh, don't try to join me at the hotel this if you have more interesting matters in prospect," smiled the gambler.
Again Clarence flushed.

He looked up to Jim Duff as a thorough "man of the world," and wanted to stand well in the gambler's good opinion.
Clarence Farnsworth was, as yet, too green to know that, too often, the man who has seen much of the world has seen only its seamy and worthless side.

Possibly Farnsworth was destined to learn this later on--after the gambler had coolly fleeced him.
"Before long," Farnsworth went on, changing the subject, "I must get out on the desert and take a look at the quicksand that the railroad folks are trying to cross." "The railroad people will probably never cross that quicksand," remarked Jim Duff, the lids closing over his eyes for a moment.
"Oh, I don't know about that," continued Farnsworth argumentatively.
"I think I do," declared Jim Duff easily.