He seized his hat, and without further conversation with any one, left the house and strode sullenly down the street. At the first corner he turned up a by path, and then ran across lots to the main street, and entered a drinking saloon.
"Why did you play, then?" the bartender was asking savagely, addressing a rough looking boy, Tim Short by name. "You have owed me for two months, and now here is another game of billiards to charge."
"I thought I should beat," said Tim, with a discouraged and demoralized look.
"That's what you've thought every time, but that don't pay me. I'm going to have my money now. If you don't pay, I will get it from your father; so come, square up, and be quick about it."
"I will settle on pay day."
"No, that won't do; you have promised that before. Either give me something for security or I will see your father tomorrow."
"How much is the whole bill?" asked Matthew.
"One dollar," replied the bartender.
"Here, Tim, is the dollar. I will lend it to you. Pay him and come with me."
Young Short clutched the dollar eagerly, and turned it over to his creditor with evident reluctance.