“He did; some of it,” replied Mr. Mowle. “He has been trying to clear it for years past; but this kind of thing’s not easily got rid of, and these have been bad times for landlords. There are a good many in the same fix as Mr. V., but not so badly, perhaps.”
“And he cannot pay it off now?” asked Bartley Bradstone.
Mr. Mowle shook his head.
“If my information is correct—and I’ll answer for it—he certainly cannot.”
“How is it that his condition has been kept so secret? No one suspects it here—in his neighborhood.”
“The gentlemen who hold the bills are only too pleased to keep quiet while he pays the interest, of course; sixty per cent.”
“Of course,” assented Bartley, “and have you got a list of the names of these people?”
“Yes, sir,” said Mowle, and he handed him a paper from his pocketbook.
Bartley Bradstone examined it, and whistled.
“Tough customers!” he said. “Sharks, all of them. Are you sure this is all?”