“It’s quite impossible for me to do it,” said Randolph, ill at ease.

“Pay me something on account—­say ten dollars.”

“I haven’t got but a dollar and a quarter in my pocket.”

“Oh, well, you know where to go for more money,” said Tony, with a wink.  “The old gentleman’s got plenty.”

“I am not so sure about that—­I mean that he is willing to pay out.  Of course, he’s got plenty of money invested,” added Randolph, who liked to have it thought that his father was a great financial magnate.

“Well, he can spare some for his son, I am sure.”

“Can’t you let it go for a little while longer, Tony?” asked Randolph, awkwardly.

“Really, Mr. Duncan, I couldn’t.  I am a poor man, as you know, and have my bills to pay.”

“I take it as very disobliging, Tony; I sha’n’t care to patronize your place any longer,” said Randolph, trying a new tack.

Tony Denton shrugged his shoulders.

“I only care for patrons who are willing to pay their bills,” he answered significantly.  “It doesn’t pay me to keep my place open free.”

“Of course not; but I hope you are not afraid of me?”

“Certainly not.  I am sure you will act honorably and pay your bills.  If I thought you wouldn’t, I would go and see your father about it.”

“No, you mustn’t do that,” said Randolph, alarmed.  “He doesn’t know I come here.”

“And he won’t know from me, if you pay what you owe.”

Matters were becoming decidedly unpleasant for Randolph.  The perspiration gathered on his brow.  He didn’t know what to do.  That his father would not give him money for any such purpose, he very well knew, and he dreaded his finding out where he spent so many of his evenings.

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself about a trifle,” said Tony smoothly.  “Just go up to your father, frankly, and tell him you want the money.”

“He wouldn’t give me twenty-seven dollars,” said Randolph gloomily.

“Then ask for ten, and I’ll wait for the balance till next week.”

“Can’t you put it all off till next week?”

“No; I really couldn’t, Mr. Duncan.  What does it matter to you this week, or next?”

Randolph wished to put off as long as possible the inevitable moment, though he knew it would do him no good in the end.  But Tony Denton was inflexible—­and he finally said:  “Well, I’ll make the attempt, but I know I shall fail.”

“That’s all right; I knew you would look at it in the right light.  Now, go ahead and play your game.”

“No, I don’t want to increase my debt.”

“Oh, I won’t charge you for what you play this evening.  Tony Denton can be liberal as well as the next man.  Only I have to collect money to pay my bills.”

Randolph didn’t know that all this had been prearranged by the obliging saloon-keeper, and that, in now pressing him, he had his own object in view.