“I think I would give half my money, Mr. Brandon, to serve Todhetley in this strait. We are as brothers.”
“No doubt you would: but you’ve not got it to give, Johnny. You can let him fight his own battles.”
“And I would if he were able to fight them: but he is not able; it’s an exceptional case. I must go back to London, and try there.”
Old Brandon opened his eyes. “How?”
“I think perhaps Miss Deveen would let me have the money. She is rich and generous—and I will tell her the whole truth. It is a turning-point in Todhetley’s life, sir: help would save him.”
“How do you know but he’d return to the mire? Let him have this money, and he might go on gambling and lose another hundred. Perhaps hundreds at the back of it.”
“No, sir, that he never would. He may go deeper into the mire if he does not get it. Enlist, or something.”
“Are you going already, Johnny?”
“Yes, sir. I must catch the next train, and it’s a good way to the station.”
“You can take a fly. Wait a few minutes.”