A cup of coffee and a beefsteak set me right, and I started for my miserable home. I was thinking of meeting Lilian, when my uncle, Captain Halliard, stopped me in the street.
“By the way, didn’t I let you have three hundred dollars some months ago?” said he.
“I think you did,” I replied, blandly.
He wanted to talk with me, and led the way into an insurance office.
CHAPTER VIII.
COMING TO THE POINT.
I WAS not pleased at the meeting, and ventured to suggest that I had important business at home; but my uncle gently dragged me into the insurance office. It was not pleasant to see him just then, and for several weeks I had avoided him, so far as it was practicable to do so. Captain Halliard was a rich man, and it could not possibly make any difference to him whether or not I paid the money I owed him. But I knew that he was exacting.
“I think you said you did borrow three hundred dollars of me,” said my uncle, as he seated himself at the long table and took out his pocket-book, evidently for the purpose of finding the note.