It chanced, unfortunately, that pay-day this particular week was deferred. The head partner was sick, or out of town; checks could not be drawn, or something like that.
“But your money will come on Saturday, boys,” said the other partner.
Binks was obliged to wait.
The money was all right; it would be accurately on tap Saturday, so Binks took no fret on that point.
But what was he to do about Mrs. B.? That good woman was to go Thursday, and in order to organise for the descent upon her relative would need the money—$40—on Tuesday. What was Binks to do?
Clearly he must do something. He could not ask Mrs. B. to put off her trip a week; indeed, his reluctance to take such course came almost to the point of superstition.
In his troubles Binks suddenly bethought him of a gold watch, once his father's, with a rich chain and guard attached. These precious heirlooms had been given to Binks by the elder Binks' executor, and were cherished accordingly.
Rather than disappoint Mrs. B. the worthy Binks decided, that just for once in his life he would seek a pawnbroker and do business with that common relative of all.
Binks felt timid and ashamed, but the case was urgent. There was no risk, for his money would float in all right on the tides of Saturday. Binks would then redeem these pledges from disgraceful hock; all would be well. Mrs. B. would be in Hoboken on redemption day, and it would not be necessary to tell her anything about the matter. It would save her pain, and Binks bravely determined to keep the whole transaction dark.
Again, if he told her he had not been paid at the store, the brave woman would indubitably wend to his employer's house and demand the reason why. This would be useless and embarrassing. Therefore, Binks would say nothing. He would pawn the ancestral super, and get it again when his money came in, and his wife was away.