Frederick withdrew his arms from under his mother and dropped his face hopelessly into his hands.
"Oh, God, help me!" he groaned between his fingers. "I can't do that, Mother! I can't!"
A tender hand went out slowly and touched him. He lifted his face with a sharp gesture and grasped his mother's fingers in his.
"Don't ask me to do that, oh, don't, darling mater, don't!" he moaned. "Anything else—I'd do anything else."
The feminine fingers closed over the masculine ones.
"I must ask you, my son," insisted Mrs. Graves, gently. "It's the only hope I have.... I've kept so many things from you, but now I'll tell you why. The lake place is mortgaged to Ebenezer Waldstricker for more than it's worth, and I've borrowed a lot of money from him and from Madelene."
Frederick's hands fell from his face.
"Good God! My God!" he exclaimed hoarsely. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I couldn't—I couldn't, Fred, but now you see why you must do this for all our sakes. I haven't any money at all only what they let me have. Babe and I won't have any place to go if you don't help. Oh, Fred, you will think of it, dear, you will?"
The boy got up feeling as if something worse than death had happened to him. He saw no way out.