"I say yes," exclaimed Jack, with an oath; "I'm no fool." And the other grumbled a surly "All right. But I'd like to get one crack at that kid's head."
"You'll have to pass that little pleasure this time." said the other with a laugh. "Write your check, Whitley and let's get out of this. I'm sleepy."
When Whitley reached his room after settling with the two gamblers, he found Frank pacing the floor, his face white and haggard.
"Sit down. Sit down, old man; and take things easy. You're all right.
Look here." And he drew the notes from his pocket.
Frank sank into a chair. "What have you done?" he gasped. "How did you get those?"
Whitley laughed. "Just invested a little of my spare cash, that's all," he said.
"But I tell you I'm ruined. I can't pay a third of that in six years."
"Well, perhaps you won't have to." Frank stared. "What do you mean?"
"I mean Amy," the other replied coolly. "You poor idiot, can't you see. I can't afford to have you disgraced before the world under the circumstances. If I wasn't in it, I'd let you go to thunder and serve you right. But a fine chance I'd have to marry your sister if she knew about this business tonight. If it wasn't for her I'd let you hang your fool self too quick, before I'd spend a dollar on your worthless carcass; but I've said that I would marry that girl and I will, if it costs every cent I've got, and you'll help me too."
Frank was silent for a time, completely cowed by the contempt in the other's voice, too frightened to protest. But at last he managed to say: "There's more than those notes."