--"

Geary interrupted him, crying out, "You haven't a cent? Why, what have
you done with your bonds?"

"Bonds?" repeated Vandover, dazed and bewildered. "I ain't never had any
bonds. What bonds? Oh, yes," he exclaimed, suddenly remembering, "yes, I
know, my bonds, of course; yes, yes--well, I--those--those, I had to
sell those bonds--had some debts, you see, my board and my tailor's
bill. They got out some sort of paper after me. Yes, I had forgotten
about my bonds. I lost every damned one of them playing cards--gambled
'em all away. Ain't I no good? But I was winner once--just in two nights
I won ten thousand dollars. Then I must have lost it again. You see, I
get so hungry sometimes that I twitch all over--so, just like that. Lend
me a dollar."

For a few moments Geary was silent, watching Vandover curiously, as he
sat in a heap on the edge of the chair, fumbling his greenish hat,
looking about the floor. Presently he asked:

"When did you lose your job at the paint-shop?"

"Day before yesterday."

"And you are out of work now?"

"Yes," answered Vandover. "I'm broke; I haven't a cent. I'm blest if I
know how I'm to get along. Lately I've been working for a paint-shop,
painting landscapes on safes. I drew down fifty dollars a week there,
but I've lost my job."

"Good Lord, Van!" Geary suddenly exclaimed, nodding his head toward him
reflectively, "I'm sorry for you!"

The other laughed. "Yes; I suppose I'm a pitiable looking object, but
I'm used to it. I don't mind much now as long as I can have a place to
sleep and enough to eat. If you can put me in the way of some work,
Charlie, I'd be much obliged. You see, that's what I want--work. I don't
want to run any bunco game. I'm an honest man--I'm too honest. I gave
away all my money to help another poor duck; gave him thousands, he was
good to me when I was on my uppers and I meant to repay him. I was
grateful. I signed a paper that gave him everything I had. It was in
Paris. There's where my bonds went to. He was a struggling artist."

"Look here!" said Geary, willing to be interested, "you might as well be
truthful with me. You can't lie to me. Have you gambled away all those
bonds, or have you been victimized, or have you still got them? Come,
now, spit it out."

"Charlie, I haven't a cent!" answered Vandover, looking him squarely in
the face. "Would I be around here and trying to get work from you if I
had? No; I gambled it all away. You know I had eigh