Mr. Dale nodded miserably. He was too utterly wretched to resent
Racey's interference with his affairs. "She—she told me," he said.
"Don't they know about the other two thousand you lost to McFluke, or what you dropped at Lacey's?"
Mr. Dale shook his head. "I never told 'em. I—I only lost fifteen or sixteen hundred at Lacey's, anyway."
"Fifteen or sixteen hundred is a whole lot when you ain't got it," said the direct and brutal Racey. "Instead of seven thousand then, you done lost eighty-five or eighty-six hundred. I swear I don't see how you managed to lose all that and yore family not find it out."
"I kept quiet."
"I guess you did keep quiet. Gawd, yes! Lookit, Dale, I'm going to help you out of this. But you'll have to start fresh. You've got to go in and make a clean breast to the family about where the other thirty-six hundred over and above the five thousand went."
Mr. Dale's jaw dropped. "I—I never even told 'em where the five thousand went."
"Huh? I thought you said they knew about the mortgage—after Molly found it out."
"They knew about the mortgage all right enough, but they dunno where the money went. Yuh see, Racey, I—I done told 'em I lost it in a land deal."
"You did! Aw right, you go right in and tell 'em the truth, all of it, every last smidgen."