“It does.”
“I see,” said Charnock, with some dryness. “You thought he'd leave me alone if he knew I wasn't worth powder and shot? Well, I believe it's very possible.” Then he paused and smiled. “I can imagine his astonishment when you asked for a bill, and must admit that you're a sport. All the same, it's humiliating to have my friends told you don't trust me with money.”
“The trouble is I can't trust you. Now you listen, Bob. This tanking and gambling has got to be stopped.”
“I'm afraid I've given you some bother,” Charnock answered penitently. “For all that, I'm not so bad as I was. In fact, I really think I'm steadying down by degrees, and since you have paid my debts I don't mind promising—”
“By degrees won't do; you have got to stop right off. Besides, you know how much your promises are worth.”
Charnock colored. “That's rather cruel, Sadie, but I suppose it's deserved.”
“I don't mean what you think; not your promise to Miss Dalton,” Sadie answered with some embarrassment. “You told me you wouldn't drive over to Wilkinson's again, and the first time I wasn't about you went. Very well. Since I can't trust you round the settlement, we're going to quit. I've decided to sell out the business as soon as I can get the price I want.”
“Sell the store and hotel!” Charnock exclaimed. “I suppose you know you'd get three or four times as much if you held on for a few years.”
“That's so. But what's going to happen to you while I wait?”
Charnock turned his head for a moment, and then looked up with a contrite air.