Rob knew that he had not twenty dollars on hand, or half that sum, but instead of saying so, he answered by a question:—
"What for?"
"I've got to have twenty to settle with a man before to-morrow morning. If I don't ante up he's going to see Graham, and I'll be fired sure."
"I'm short," said Owen, wondering what this trouble was about. "I might let you have five."
"That isn't enough," replied Carle, evidently disappointed, turning toward the door. "I've got to have twenty anyway. I'll try some one else. Good night."
And before Owen had time for further questions, the door closed behind his visitor, and Rob was left alone.
And now more time was wasted in considering Carle's case, and guessing at the cause of his urgent need. The composition at last came out, but not until Simmons had returned with his Greek books under his arm, and the lessons for the morning packed away in complete order in his little brain. Presently another knock was heard, and the literary work was definitely abandoned.
"Hello, Owen," said Poole, rushing in. "Can I see you a minute?"