Jim sat limply on the edge of a cot and told Dennis what had happened.
"The low scoundrel!" roared Uncle Denny. "Leave me get at him!"
Jim caught the purple-faced Irishman by the arm. "You are to say nothing to anyone, Uncle Denny. How could I prove that he meant to do it? And do you want me to be a loser that bellyaches?"
Uncle Denny looked Jim over and breathed hard for a moment before he replied: "Very well, me boy. But I always suspected he had a yellow streak in him and this proves it. Have you seen him do dirty tricks before?"
"I never had any proof," answered Jim carefully. "And it was always some money matter and I'm no financier, so I laid it to my own ignorance."
"A man who will do dirt in money matters can't be a clean sport," said Uncle Denny. "This ends any chance of your going into business with him, Jim, I hope."
"I gave that idea up long ago, Uncle Denny. Pen is not to hear a word of all this, remember, won't you?"
At this moment, Saradokis burst in the door. He was dressed and his face was vivid despite his exhaustion.
"Hey, Still! What happened to you? Everybody's looking for you. Congratulate me, old scout!"