“What is it?” Rawley asked, rather sharply, his fingers running through his slightly grizzled black hair, but not excitedly, for he wanted no scenes; and if this thing could hurt Di Welldon, and action was necessary, he must remain cool. What she was to do, Heaven and he only knew; what she had done for him, perhaps neither understood fully as yet. “What is it—quick?” he added, and his words were like a sharp grip upon Dan Welldon’s shoulder. “Racing?—cards?”
Dan nodded. “Yes, over at Askatoon; five hundred on Jibway, the favorite—he fell at the last fence; five hundred at poker with Nick Fison; and a thousand in land speculation at Edmonton, on margin. Everything went wrong.”
“And so you put your hand in the railway company’s money-chest?”
“It seemed such a dead certainty—Jibway; and the Edmonton corner-blocks, too. I’d had luck with Nick before; but—well, there it is, Flood.”
“They know—the railway people—Shaughnessy knows?”
“Yes, the president knows. He’s at Calgary now. They telegraphed him, and he wired to give me till midnight to pay up or go to jail. They’re watching me now. I can’t stir. There’s no escape, and there’s no one I can ask for help but you. That’s why I’ve come, Flood.”
“Lord, what a fool! Couldn’t you see what the end would be if your plunging didn’t come off? You—you oughtn’t to bet, or speculate, or play cards, you’re not clever enough. You’ve got blind rashness, and so you think you’re bold. And Di—oh, you idiot! And on a salary of a thousand dollars a year!”
“I suppose Di would help me; but I couldn’t explain.” The weak face puckered, a lifeless kind of tear gathered in the ox-like eyes.
“Yes, she probably would help you. She’d probably give you all she’s saved to go to Europe with and study, saved from her pictures sold at twenty per cent. of their value; and she’d mortgage the little income she’s got to keep her brother out of jail. Of course she would, and of course you ought to be ashamed of yourself for thinking of it.” Rawley lighted his cigar and smoked fiercely.
“It would be better for her than my going to jail,” stubbornly replied the other. “But I don’t want to tell her, or to ask her for money. That’s why I’ve come to you. You needn’t be so hard, Flood; you’ve not been a saint; and Di knows it.”