"Who said you were? I see I shall have to take the matter into my own hands."
"How? What do you mean?" asked Percy nervously.
"I will go to your father, show him this I O U of yours, and ask him for the money."
"You wouldn't do that, Reginald? He would be awful mad with me, and you wouldn't get your money, either."
"I must do something. I can't afford to lose the money."
"Just wait a day or two. I'll see what I can do."
"Mind you do something, then."
Percy regretted that he had ever made the acquaintance of Reginald Ward, or consented to play poker with him, but the regret came too late. The mischief was done, and he saw from Ward's determined look that he must do something. He was just in that frame of mind when temptations have the most power.
In the evening he went to the village store to purchase a fishing-line, for he had made an arrangement to go out fishing with Reginald Ward the next day. He made the purchase, and was about to go when his eye caught sight of a twenty-dollar bill lying on the desk. Mr. Jones had gone to the other end of the store, and no one was looking. On the impulse of the moment he seized the bill, and with his heart beating quickly, he left the store. As he passed through the door Bert Barton entered with a kerosene can in his hand, and walked up to the counter, taking his stand near the desk.