“Tell him you want clothes, or a watch, or a hundred things.”
Dawkins shook his head; “it won't do,” said he. “He wouldn't give me a hundred and fifty dollars.”
“Then ask seventy-five, and I will wait a month for the rest.”
“Look here, Duval, you have no rightful claim to this money. You've got enough out of me. Just tear up the paper.”
Duval laughed scornfully, “Aha, Mr. Dawkins,” he said, “that would be a very pretty arrangement FOR YOU. But I don't see how it is going to benefit me. No, no, I can't afford to throw away a hundred and fifty dollars so easily. If I was a rich man like your father it would make a difference.”
“Then you won't remit the debt,” said Dawkins, sullenly.
“You would think me a great ninny, if I did.”
“Then you may collect it the best way you can.”
“What do you mean by that?” demanded the Frenchman, his face darkening.
“I mean what I say,” said Dawkins, desperately, “Gambling debts are not recognizable in law.”