“To see your father.  I want to tell him that his son owes me a debt; that this debt was incurred in a way that lays him liable to arrest for forgery; that, bad as he thinks you, there are facts which can be picked up in Boston which would render Frederick Sutherland’s continued residence under the parental roof impossible; that, in fact, you are a scamp of the first water, and that only my friendship for you has kept you out of prison so long.  Won’t that make a nice story for the old gentleman’s ears!”

“Wattles—­I—­oh, my God!  Wattles, stop a minute and listen to me.  I have not got the money.  I had enough this morning to pay you, had it legitimately, Wattles, but it has been stolen from me and—­ -”

“I will also tell him,” the other broke in, as quietly as if Frederick had not uttered a word, “that in a certain visit to Boston you lost five hundred dollars on one hand; that you lost it unfairly, not having a dollar to pay with; that to prevent scandal I be came your security, with the understanding that I was to be paid at the end of ten days from that night; that you thereupon played again and lost four hundred and odd more, so that your debt amounted to nine hundred and fifty-five dollars; that the ten days passed without payment; that, wanting money, I pressed you and even resorted to a threat or two; and that, seeing me in earnest, you swore that the dollars should be mine within five days; that instead of remaining in Boston to get them, you came here; and that this morning at a very early hour you telegraphed that the funds were to hand and that you would bring them down to me to-morrow.  The old gentleman may draw conclusions from this, Sutherland, which may make his position as your father anything but grateful to him.  He may even—­Ah, you would try that game, would you?”

The young man had flung himself at the older man’s throat as if he would choke off the words he saw trembling on his lips.  But the struggle thus begun was short.  In a moment both stood panting, and Frederick, with lowered head, was saying humbly: 

“I beg pardon, Wattles, but you drive me mad with your suggestions and conclusions.  I have not got the money, but I will try and get it.  Wait here.”

“For ten minutes, Sutherland; no longer!  The moon is bright, and I can see the hands of my watch distinctly.  At a quarter to ten, you will return here with the amount I have mentioned, or I will seek it at your father’s hands in his own study.”

Frederick made a hurried gesture and vanished up the walk.  Next moment he was at his father’s study door.

XIII

WATTLES GOES

Mr. Sutherland was busily engaged with a law paper when his son entered his presence, but at sigh of that son’s face, he dropped the paper with an alacrity which Frederick was too much engaged with his own thoughts to notice.