“It’s enough to drive a fellow to drink again!” said the Southerner despairingly. “I hate to be bled in this way.”
Frank said nothing, for he did not hear a word. He was walking up and down, his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the carpet. Of a sudden, he uttered an exclamation, stopped short, jerked his hands out of his pockets, and smote his clenched right fist into his open left palm.
“It might work!” he cried.
“What?” asked Jack, rousing up and showing some interest.
Frank strode over, grasped Diamond by the shoulder, jerked him to his feet, and cried:
“Take me to that fellow Herrick! Don’t lose any time about it, either!”
“What—what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to try to save that money for you.”
“How can you do that?”
“Never mind. If I do save it—if I fix it so you win this bet, will you loan me the amount you win?”