"Certainly not. I am sure you will act honorably and pay your bills. If I thought you wouldn't, I would go and see your father about it."
"No, you mustn't do that," said Randolph, alarmed. "He doesn't know I come here."
"And he won't know from me, if you pay what you owe."
Matters were becoming decidedly unpleasant for Randolph. The perspiration gathered on his brow. He didn't know what to do. That his father would not give him money for any such purpose, he very well knew, and he dreaded his finding out where he spent so many of his evenings.
"Oh, don't trouble yourself about a trifle," said Tony smoothly. "Just go up to your father, frankly, and tell him you want the money."
"He wouldn't give me twenty-seven dollars," said Randolph gloomily.
"Then ask for ten, and I'll wait for the balance till next week."
"Can't you put it all off till next week?"
"No; I really couldn't, Mr. Duncan. What does it matter to you this week, or next?"
Randolph wished to put off as long as possible the inevitable moment, though he knew it would do him no good in the end. But Tony Denton was inflexible—and he finally said: "Well, I'll make the attempt, but I know I shall fail."