"I wouldn't have come to you at all, only Driggs said—and you said yourself once, and you can spare it. I know that. See here. Unless somebody helps me these people will go to Division Headquarters or Washington. They'll stop my sailing. They'll——"
"Don't cry," George interrupted. "You want money, and you don't give a hang where it comes from. That's it, isn't it?"
"I have to have money," Dalrymple acknowledged.
"Then you ought to have sense enough to know the only reason I'd give it to you. Do you think I'd care if they held you in this country for your silly debts? What you borrow you have to pay back in one way or another. Don't make any mistake. If I give you money it's to be able to make you pay as I please. You've always had a knife out for me. I don't mind putting one in my own hands. If you want money on those terms come to my office with your accounts Saturday afternoon. We'll see what can be done."
Dalrymple was quite white. He moistened his lips. As he left he muttered:
"I can't answer back. I have to have money. You've got me where you want."
VII
Dalrymple's necessities turned out to be greater than George had imagined. They measured pretty accurately the extent of his reformation. George got several notes to run a year in return for approximately twenty thousand dollars.
"Remember," he said at the close of the transaction, "you pay those back when and how I say."
"I wouldn't have come to you if I could have helped it," Dalrymple whined. "But don't forget, Morton, somebody will pull me out at a pinch. I'm going to work to pay you if I live. I'm through with nonsense. Give me a chance."