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 eighty-nine hundred in U.S. 4 per cents.  Well, first I began to pawn things when my money got short—­the Old Gentleman’s watch that I said I never would part with, then my clothes.  I couldn’t keep away from the cards.  Of course, you can’t understand that; gambling was the only thing that could amuse me.  Then I began to mortgage my bonds, very little at first.  Oh, I went slow!  Then I got to selling them.