“I—­I’ve heard of ’em,” Mr. Dale nodded, hesitatingly.  “But I’m shore Mac’s is on the level.”

“And you bet seven thousand dollars it was on the level, didn’t you?”

“But—­”

“But where did you come out?  Do you think you ever got a show for yore money?”

“Oh, I won a bet now and then,” defended Mr. Dale.

“Small ones, shore.  Naturally he has to let you win now and then to sort of toll you along and keep you good-natured.  You won now and then, yep.  But did you ever win when you had a sizable stake up?”

Mr. Dale shook his head.  “No, come to think of it, I don’t believe I ever did.”

“I knowed you didn’t,” exclaimed Racey, triumphantly.  “I tell you that wheel is crooked.”

“Not so loud,” cautioned Mr. Dale.  “They’ll hear you in the house.”

“Don’t they know nothing about it a-tall?” probed Racey.

“They know about the five-thousand-dollar mortgage,” admitted Dale, reluctantly.

Racey rubbed his chin.  “I was here when Molly found it out.”

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.”

“I cuc-can’t!” protested Mr. Dale.  “I ain’t got the heart!”

“You ain’t got the nerve, you mean.  You go on and tell ’em, Dale, an’ I’ll fix it up for you, but I won’t fix up anything for you if you ain’t gonna play square with those women from now on.  And you can’t play square with ’em without you begin by telling ’em the truth.”

“How you gonna help me out?” temporized Mr. Dale.

“I’m goin’ to Old Salt, that’s what I’m going to do.  I’ll fix it up with him to lend you the money.”