This last chance seemed feeble enough. But a drowning man will clutch at a straw, and so Wyndham, as his last hope, faced the unpromising task of working on the generosity of his two old patrons.
He began with Gilks. Gilks was in his own house, and had always seemed to be the least vicious, as he was also the least clever of the two. Besides, of late it was notorious Gilks and Silk were no longer the friends they had been. There was a mystery about their recent quarrel; but as Gilks had been down in the mouth ever since, while Silk showed no signs of dejection, it was safe to assume the former had come off second best.
Wyndham therefore selected Gilks for his first attempt as being on the whole the less formidable of the two.
He found him in his study listlessly turning over the pages of a novel, which evidently must either have been a very stupid one or else not nearly as engrossing as the reader’s own reflections.
He looked up with some surprise to see Wyndham, who since he had somewhat ostentatiously cut his and Silk’s acquaintance some weeks ago, had never been near him.
“What do you want here?” he demanded, not very encouragingly.
“I know you’ve not much reason to be friendly with me,” began the boy, “but I want to speak to you, if I may.”
“What about?” said Gilks, roughly.
The poor boy seemed suddenly to realise the hopeless nature of the task he had undertaken, and he nearly broke down completely as he answered, “I’m in awful trouble, Gilks.”
“What’s that to do with me?” asked Gilks.