He seated himself at his desk
and wrote rapidly:

We, the undersigned, exonerate Edwin Brigham of cheating in the poker
game in Hampden Scarborough's rooms on Saturday evening, February 20,
18--. And we pledge ourselves never to speak of the matter either to
each other or to any one else.

"I've signed first," said Scarborough, rising and holding the pen
toward Chalmers. "Now, you fellows sign. Chalmers!"

Chalmers signed, and then Wilton.

"Take Chalmers away with you," said Scarborough to Wilton in an
undertone. "I've something to say to Brigham."

When they were gone he again seated himself at his desk and, taking his
check-book, wrote a check and tore it out.

"Now, listen to me, Brig," he said friendlily to Brigham, who seemed to
be in a stupor. "I've won about six hundred dollars from you, first
and last--more, rather than less. Will that amount put you in the way
of getting straight?"

"Yes," said Brigham, dully.

"Then here's a check for it. And here's the paper exonerating you.
And--I guess you won't play again soon."

The boy choked back his sobs.

"I don't know how I ever came to do it, Scarborough. Oh, I'm a dog, a
dog! When I started to come here my mother took me up to her bedroom
and opened the drawer of her bureau and took out a savings-bank
book--it had a credit of twelve hundred dollars. 'Do you see that?' she
said. 'When you were born I began to put by as soon as I was
able--every cent I could from the butter and the eggs--to educate my
boy. And now it's all coming true,' she said, Scarborough, and we
cried together. And----" Brigham burst into a storm of tears and
sobs. "Oh, how could I do it!" he said. "How COULD I!"

"You've done wrong," said Scarborough, shakily, "but I've done much
worse, Eddie. And it's over now, and everything'll be all right."

"But I can't take your money, Scarborough. I must pay for what I've
done."

"You mean, make your mother pay. No, you must take it back, Brigham.
I owe it to you--I owe it to your mother. This, is the butter and egg
money that I--I stole from her."

He put the papers into the boy's pocket. "You and I are going to be
friends," he went on.

"Come round and see me to-morrow--no, I'll look you up." He put out
his hand and held Brigham's hand in a courage-giving grasp. "And--I
hope I'll have the honor of meeting your mother some day."

Brigham could only look his feelings. Soon after he left Pierson came.
His