"Good heavens, where did he get the money?"
Marsh looked serious, shook his head, and made no further reply.
At seven o'clock, when Bojo was struggling up from a sleepless night, Granning came into his room, awkwardly sympathetic.
"Look here, Bojo, is it as bad as the fellows feared?"
"Can't tell, Granny. Looks nasty."
"You in trouble too?"
Bojo nodded.
"I say, I've got that bond for a thousand tucked away," said Granning slowly. "Use it if it'll help any."
"Bless your heart," said Bojo, really touched. "It's not a thousand, Granny, that'll help now. You were right—gambler's luck!"
"Cut that out," said Granning, shifting from foot to foot. "I'm damned sorry—tough luck, damned tough luck. I wish I could help!"