Outside the door he found Tom Drift passing along the corridor in a state of great excitement.
“The very chap, I declare,” cried he. “I say, lend us your watch, young un, will you?”
“What for?” asked Charlie.
“Only a time race. Tom Shadbolt says he can run a mile in 4.40. I say he can’t do it under 4.50, and we’ve got a bet of half-a-crown a side upon it. So lend us your watch to time him by.”
Charlie hesitated, and a pang passed through his breast. He knew that one of the things which he had promised his father was that he would have nothing to do with betting or gambling in any form, and how could he obey in this respect if he now lent me for the purpose for which I was required? And yet he owed Tom Drift no common gratitude for the good service he had done in setting me right yesterday, and surely if any one had a right to borrow me it was he. The struggle was a sore one, but soon decided.
“I can’t lend it you, Tom Drift.”
“Why ever not?” asked Tom sharply.
“I’m very sorry; if it had been anything else—but I promised father I would not gamble.”
“Young ass! who wants you to gamble? I only want you to lend us your watch.”
“You are gambling, though,” said Charlie timidly.