The boy’s countenance fell. “Not much! I’m not likely to get encouragement from him. My news is about something else. Eddy has got his money back.”
For an instant Dick enjoyed a sweet vision of a gambler, frightened into reform by bold threats, making righteous restitution to his victims. But the vision merely appeared and vanished, like the landscape under a lightning flash on a dark stormy night, leaving the boy more in the dark than ever.
“Got his money back! You don’t mean that Bosworth has given it back to him?”
“I’m not exactly certain about that,” said Phil. “All I know is that Tompkins came to him, asked him how much Bosworth had got from him, took out the money, said it came from Bosworth, and then made Eddy promise not to play again, and gave it to him.”
Dick whistled. “What in the world had Tommy to do with it?”
“Didn’t I tell you that I don’t know!” said Phil, impatiently. “The main thing is that Eddy’s got his money back and has promised to keep out of such things in the future.”
“It’s mysterious,” said Dick.
“Mysterious!” echoed the boy. “I don’t care about the mystery. It’s a low-down business, and Eddy is mighty lucky to get out of the hole. The worst thing about it is, that it will do him no good. I can’t really sympathize with the fellow. He hasn’t any moral backbone at all.”
“You ought to try to stiffen him up,” said the wise upper-class man.
“Stiffen him up! stiffen an eel!” returned the disgusted junior. “The only way you can do that is to kill it.”