med? And anyway, that's not my point. It's how I stand
that I want to know. There is a particular reason. Am I clear? Have I a
certificate, or what have I to do to get one? And when will it be dated?
You can't think what hangs by it!"

"That's the worst of all," said Jim, like a man in a dream, "I can't see
how to tell him!"

"What do you mean?" I cried, a small pang of terror at my heart.

"I'm afraid I sacrificed you, Loudon," he said, looking at me pitifully.

"Sacrificed me?" I repeated. "How? What do you mean by sacrifice?"

"I know it'll shock your delicate self-respect," he said; "but what was
I to do? Things looked so bad. The receiver----" (as usual, the name
stuck in his throat, and he began afresh). "There was a lot of talk; the
reporters were after me already; there was the trouble and all about
the Mexican business; and I got scared right out, and I guess I lost my
head. You weren't there, you see, and that was my temptation."

I did not know how long he might thus beat about the bush with dreadful
hintings, and I was already beside myself with terror. What had he done?
I saw he had been tempted; I knew from his letters that he was in no
condition to resist. How had he sacrificed the absent?

"Jim," I said, "you must speak right out. I've got all that I can
carry."

"Well," he said--"I know it was a liberty--I made it out you were no
business man, only a stone-broke painter; that half the time you didn't
know anything anyway, particularly money and accounts. I said you never
could be got to understand whose was whose. I had to say that because of
some entries in the books----"

"For God's sake," I cried, "put me out of this agony! What did you
accuse me of?"

"Accuse you of?" repeated Jim. "Of what I'm telling you. And there being
no deed of partnership, I made out you were only a kind of clerk that
I called a partner just to give you taffy; and so I got you ranked
a creditor on the estate for your wages and the money you had lent.
And----"

I believe I reeled. "A creditor!" I roared; "a creditor! I'm not in the
bankruptcy at all?"

"No," said Jim. "I know it was a liberty----"

"O, damn your liberty! read that," I cried, dashing the letter before
him on the table, "and call in your wife, and be done with eating this
truck "--as I spoke, I slung the cold mutton in the empty grate--"and
let's all go and have a champagne supper. I've dined--I'm sure I don't
remember what I had; I'd dine again