"How've you earned your living?" he demanded sharply.
"I'm a gambler," came Jim's uneasy reply, the truth forced from him against his will.
"You're a drunkard and a crook?"
"I'm a fool. I told you."
Dave accepted the admission.
"Then for God's sake get out of this village, and write and release Betty from her engagement. You say you love her. Prove it by releasing her, and be a man."
Dave's voice rang out deep with emotion. At that moment he was thinking of Betty, and not of the man before him. He was not there to judge him, his only thought was of the tragedy threatening the girl.
Truscott had suddenly become calm, and his eyes had again assumed that furtive watchfulness as he looked up into the larger man's face. He shook his head.
"I can't give her up," he said obstinately, after a pause.
Dave sat down again, watching the set, almost savage expression of the other's face. The position was difficult; he was not only dealing with this man, but with a woman whose sense of duty and honor was such that left him little hope of settling the matter as he felt it should be settled. Finally he decided to appeal again to the man's better nature.