I shrank back, looking into her exultant eyes with horror in my own.
“How dare you say such things about my father?” I cried, in anger.
“How dare I?” she retorted; “why, because they’re true, as you can see for yourself. Your father’s deceived you, an’ he’s deceived me. I’ve paid out over four hundred dollars for your keep, thinkin’ there was enough in this room to pay me back. An’ now I stand to lose every penny of it, jest because I trusted to a lyin’ sea-captain.”
“You won’t lose a dollar!” I cried, indignantly, while I struggled to keep back the tears of disappointment and shame that rushed to my eyes. “I’ll pay you every cent of the money, if I live.”
She looked at me curiously, with a half smile upon her thin lips.
“How?” she asked.
“I’ll work and earn it.”
“Pish! what can a boy like you earn? An’ what’s goin’ to happen while you’re earnin’ it? One thing’s certain, Sam Steele; you can’t stay here an’ live off’n a poor lone woman that’s lost four hundred dollars by you already. You’ll have to find another place.”
“I’ll do that,” I said, promptly.
“You can have three days to git out,” she continued, pushing me out of the room and relocking the door, although there was little reason for that. “And you can take whatever clothes you’ve got along with you. Nobody can say that Jane Ranck ain’t acted like a Christian to ye, even if she’s beat an’ defrauded out’n her just rights. But if ye should happen to earn any money, Sam, I hope you’ll remember what ye owe me.”