“You’re not in earnest, James?”
“Yes, I am. I ain’t proud of the business, but you drove me to it.”
“No, no,” protested the old man.
“You made me work hard, and half starved me when I was a boy, you gave me no chance of education, and all to swell your paltry hoards. If I have gone to the bad, you are responsible. But let that drop. I’ve been unfortunate, and I want money.”
“I told you I had none, James.”
“And I don’t believe you. Hark you! I will come back tomorrow,” he said, with a threatening gesture. “In the meanwhile, get fifty dollars from the bank, and have it ready for me. Do you hear?”
“You must be mad, James!” said old Jerry, regarding his son with a look of fear.
“I shall be, unless you have the money. I will go now, but I shall be back tomorrow.”
Paul ran downstairs hastily, as he heard the man’s heavy step approaching the door. He didn’t care to be recognized by his unpleasant acquaintance of the night previous.