“There’s no need that I should think it over. I’ll never consent to it—never. My creditors will not drive me to such extremities.”
“Oh, they won’t, eh?” said Mr. Jones to himself as he closed the door and paused a moment on the landing outside. “We’ll see about that, my fine lad. I’ll have them following you like so many sleuth-hounds before twenty-four hours have passed over your head. You’ll find that they won’t care what becomes of you so long as they get their money. There is another way out of the difficulty, but I don’t think it quite safe to propose it to Guy to-night. I will tell him of it to-morrow. By that time he will be cornered so tightly that he will be glad to do anything to get out.”
So saying the commercial traveler laughed softly to himself, and slowly descended the stairs.
CHAPTER XXVII.
WHAT HAPPENED AT THE STORE.
IN THE hall Mr. Jones met his landlady. The sight of her seemed to recall something to his mind, for he quickly thrust his hand into his pocket, and said as he approached:
“I am ashamed of myself, Mrs. Willis, but I never thought of it before, I assure you.”
“Why, what do you mean, Mr. Jones?” asked the lady in surprise.
“I mean that, contrary to my usual custom, I have neglected to pay my week’s board.”