“Careful my boy. Remember, it is to your friends that you owe much.”
“And I thank them,” retorted Morey angrily. “To those who have loaned us money I’ll repay every cent. How much do we owe you?”
“What I have told you is for your own good,” was Major Carey’s only reply. The old Virginian’s indignation was rising.
“Major Carey,” almost sobbed the boy, “don’t take offense. But why didn’t you tell me this long ago?”
“I tried to tell your mother, but it wasn’t possible. I’m sorry she has to know.”
For a moment the man and the boy stood in silence. Then Morey extended his hand and made a brave effort to smile.
“We won’t tell her—not just yet—Major Carey. Because a kid has been a fool is no sign that he is going to keep it up. I’m game. I’m going to be a man, and I’m going to have business sense. I’m going to ‘get there’ and I’m not scared. Tomorrow morning at ten o’clock I’m coming to the bank and I want to know the whole story.”
Major Carey shook his head.
“I’m afraid it’s too late.”