"My mistake! It wasn't my mistake; it was yours. Besides, you didn't keep your word about making good any loss I might suffer. You put me in a nasty hole, Rackliff."
"I don't see why. To hear you talk, anybody might think you were ruined instead of merely getting hit for less than a fiver. Never knew a fellow to put up such a squeal over a little money."
Hooker's cheeks were flushed and he faced Herbert, his undershot jaw seeming to project still further than usual.
"I lost more than that," he said.
"What? You did? Why, you only gave me four dollars and——"
"I lost something more than money."
"You didn't tell me about it."
"I haven't told anyone—but my mother. I had to tell her the other day. When you wanted me to bet on that game I told you I didn't have any money."
"Yes."
"But I knew where my mother had some money put away in a drawer—some money she had been saving up a little at a time to buy the material for a new dress. I went into that drawer and took that money. You were so positive that I could not lose that I—well, I stole the money."