“Sorry, but I can't this time. Don't you worry; I shall think of something.”
“Couldn't your mother help?”
“Don't wish to ask her.”
“Why! can't she know?”
“Nobody can.”
“How queer! Is it a scrape, Jack?” asked Jill, looking as curious as a magpie.
“It is likely to be, if I can't get out of it this week, somehow.”
“Well, I don't see how I can help if I'm not to know anything;” and Jill seemed rather hurt.
“You can just stop asking questions, and tell me how a fellow can earn some money. That would help. I've got one dollar, but I must have some more;” and Jack looked worried as he fingered the little gold dollar on his watch-guard.
“Oh, do you mean to use that?”