It contained a square table and half a dozen chairs.

Three men sat within, their feet elevated, quietly smoking.

The gambler coolly ran his eyes over their uplifted faces.
"I desire to use this room, gents," he announced quietly.

"You 'll find plenty of vacant space outside." Whether the lounging trio knew the speaker of old, or were sufficiently satisfied from his stern face of the probable results should they long hesitate to comply, the three pairs of feet came down together, their owners passing out in single file.

Farnham waved his hand politely toward the vacated interior, a slight measure of deference apparent in his modulated voice.
"Help yourself to a chair, Mr.Winston, and permit me to offer you a fresh cigar; a fairly good one I imagine, as I chance to be somewhat particular regarding the weed." A moment they sat thus furtively studying each other's face across the table through the increasing clouds of blue smoke, the younger man puzzled and filled with vague suspicion, the elder still rather uncertain of his present ground, as well as of the exact sort of character opposing him.