That something might be Healy's endeavour to get stake money from Castro. Castro would get his full half share and split again with Healy. Healy had palpably lied about his ability to borrow in Los Angeles. The trip to Mexicali had all been planned. Healy's faro playing was only a cover. He had never intended to win. The telegrams from Rhyolite had been a part of the scheme to work in Castro. And Lefty's unexpected luck had spoiled the little game after the row with Padilla had temporarily upset it.
Stone tore the note into tiny scraps and disposed of them. Mary Leslie! It was a nice little confidence, Stone thought, to have given her real name, Lola, of course, was a nom-de-bal, assumed for the Mexican atmosphere of the dance hall. He wondered if a girl could go straight in such a place. The memory of her kisses brought a quick flushing of his blood. It seemed as if he had won something after all in fighting Padilla. He wondered if he was going to write to her. If he wanted to? And then Lefty came back to the washroom.
"Corfee, Stone," he said. "Pipin' 'ot, with 'amand. Better get something under your belt before you turn in."
Stone laughed at the quick turn from romance to realism.
"Sounds good to me," he answered. "I'm with you."
