"Vot vos dot?" gasped Hans Dunnerwurst. "You don'd pelief me! Dit ten thousand dollars pet you, Ephie? Mine cootness cracious sakes alife! You vos a spordt!"
"I'm a tarnal fool!" mumbled Gallup. "I know it."
"Then you did make a bet, Ephraim?" said Frank, unable to repress his feeling of dismay.
"Yes, I done it! I hope the whole blamed bunch will kick me! I ain't goin' to make no excuses, but when that critter, Silence, tried to rub it into me I gut so tarnal hot-headed that I right up and told him I'd go him for any old figger. I didn't s'pose he'd make it so large. Your talk abaout betting has made me so all-fired disgusted with myself that I jest want to jump off the earth."
"This is bad business—bad business," muttered Frank. "Give me all the particulars, Gallup."
Ephraim did so.
When the Vermonter had finished, Merry drew a deep breath.
"You can't afford to lose that bet, Gallup," he said. "What are you going to do with the money if you win?"
"Do with it? Dad birn it, I'll burn it up!"
"That would be still more foolish. If you lose, you will be down to bed rock again."