Manito eBooks

Flies were buzzing against the window-panes.
Half a dozen nondescript members, looking considerably the worse for
wear, loafed about moodily or snored in deck chairs. Two or three were
writing letters. It was the sulkiest hour of the day. Mr. Heard noticed
a slender young Indian and a blond-haired fellow--probably a
Scandinavian. They were arguing about cigars with a rosy-cheeked old
reprobate whom they called Charlie. An adjoining apartment, the
card-room, contained a livelier party, among whom the bishop recognized
Mr. Muhlen. He had lost no time in making himself popular. He must have
found congenial spirits here.
"Well?" asked Keith.
"Cheap and nasty," suggested the other.
"That's it! They call it the Alpha and Omega Club, to shadow forth its
all-embracing international character; it's just a boozing institution,
where you run to seed. They come in here, and say the south wind makes
them thirsty. Red and Blue Club would be a more appropriate name. That
is the whisky they have to drink.


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