"When you signed his note for the sum you wanted, how much did you really get?"
Lance smiled ruefully as he told him.
"You seem to know their tricks," he added.
"Some of them," Harding replied dryly. "Now, if you'll give me your word that you won't stake a dollar on a horse or card again, I'll take up this debt; but I don't want your promise unless you mean to keep it."
Lance's eyes were eager, though his face was red.
"I've had my lesson. It was the first time I'd really played high, and I was a bit excited; the room was hot and full of smoke, and they'd brought in a good deal of whisky." Then he pulled himself up. "But I can't let you do this; and I don't see——"
"Why I'm willing to help?" Harding finished for him. "Well, one's motives aren't always very plain, even to oneself. Still—you can take it that I've a pretty strong grievance against all mortgage brokers. They've ruined one or two friends of mine, and they're going to make trouble in this country. I'll give you a few instances."
He meant to frighten the lad, but there was no need to overstate the truth, and his face grew stern as he related how struggling farmers had been squeezed dry, and broken in spirit and fortune by the money-lender's remorseless grasp. Lance was duly impressed, and realized how narrow an escape he had had.
"Are you willing to leave the thing entirely to me?" Harding concluded. "You must understand that you're only changing your creditor."
"I can trust you," Lance said with feeling. "I can't tell you what a relief it is to get out of that fellow's hands! But I ought to warn you that he's tricky; you may have some trouble."