" Moffatt continued unabashed. "I saw in the papers the date
was set for the end of June."

Mr. Spragg rose heavily from his seat. "I presume my daughter has her
reasons," he said, moving toward the door in Moffatt's wake.

"I guess she has--same as I have for wanting you to step round with me
to old Driscoll's. If Undine's reasons are as good as mine--"

"Stop right here, Elmer Moffatt!" the older man broke out with lifted
hand. Moffatt made a burlesque feint of evading a blow; then his face
grew serious, and he moved close to Mr. Spragg, whose arm had fallen to
his side.

"See here, I know Undine's reasons. I've had a talk with her--didn't
she tell you? SHE don't beat about the bush the way you do. She told me
straight out what was bothering her. She wants the Marvells to think
she's right out of Kindergarten. 'No goods sent out on approval from
this counter.' And I see her point--_I_ don't mean to publish my
meemo'rs. Only a deal's a deal." He paused a moment, twisting his
fingers about the heavy gold watch-chain that crossed his waistcoat.
"Tell you what, Mr. Spragg, I don't bear malice--not against Undine,
anyway--and if I could have afforded it I'd have been glad enough to
oblige her and forget old times. But you didn't hesitate to kick me when
I was down and it's taken me a day or two to get on my legs again after
that kicking. I see my way now to get there and keep there; and there's
a kinder poetic justice in your being the man to help me up. If I can
get hold of fifty thousand dollars within a day or so I don't care who's
got the start of me. I've got a dead sure thing in sight, and you're the
only man that can get it for me. Now do you see where we're coming out?"

Mr. Spragg, during this discourse, had remained motionless, his hands
in his pockets, his jaws moving mechanically, as though he mumbled a
tooth-pick under his beard. His sallow cheek had turned a shade paler,
and his brows hung threateningly over his half-closed eyes. But there
was no threat--there was scarcely more than a note of dull curiosity--in
the voice with which he said: "You mean to talk?"

Moffatt's rosy face grew as hard as a steel safe. "I mean YOU to
talk--to old Driscoll." He paused, and then added: "It's a hundred
thousand down, between us."

Mr. Spragg once more consulted his watch. "I'll see you again," he said
with an effort.

Moffatt struck one fist against the other. "No, SIR--you won't! You'll
only hear from me--throu