"Well," said Jim shortly, "sit down while I build a fire and get something to drink; things are not very gay here to-night, but we'll do the best we can."
When the room was warm and they had removed their wraps and outer clothing, and Jim had partaken freely from a supply of liquor on the sideboard, he stretched himself in an easy chair and spoke more pleasantly. "Well, I suppose you are ready to pay those notes, with the interest."
Frank moved uneasily. "You know I can't," he muttered. "I thought from your letter, that we might make other arrangements. Amy, you know, might come.—"
"Oh, cut that out," interrupted Whitley, with an oath; "your esteemed sister is out of this deal for good." Then, as he lit his cigar, "We might fix things in another way though, if you only had the nerve."
"How?" asked Frank, eagerly.
"That printer of Udell's has some papers in his possession that I want.
Get them for me and I'll turn over your notes and call it square."
Frank looked at his companion in wonder. "What do you mean?" he said at last.
"Just what I say. Can't you hear?"
"But how does that tramp happen to have any papers of value to you?"
"That is, most emphatically, none of your business, my friend.
All you have to do is to get them, or—" he paused significantly.