But I couldn't
explain why I didn't go up to New Haven, nor send the thousand, and
it'll be five years, anyhow--ten, maybe. And I shan't hold out that.
The doctor only gave me two."
"Ten years? Oh, no!" Lindsay cried.
"It's grand larceny," said the man simply.
"Lin, Lin, come _on_!" called Caroline.
"You've got the pin, and I'll tear the picture up," said the man.
"I've got it all planned, o' course--I give the name of Barker.
And--and _if_ Jim ever says anything to you or any of his friends
about me being mean about the thousand, when I'd promised it, just
kind of give a hint, will you, that things may have happened so's I
couldn't? I hope he'll think I died. I wish he was through Yale,
though. The thousand won't make any difference with graduatin', will
it?"
Lindsay swallowed hard; his nerves were strained to snapping.
"Good God, no!" he shouted. He stepped to the French window, opened
it, and threw the revolver over the sill.
"Get out!" he said briefly, turning to the man, "get out of my
sight! If Jim ever receives another penny from you, I'll tell him
all I know."
The man swayed towards the chair. "Do you mean it?" he gasped,
"honest?"
He began to sob and choke a little, and turning half bent over the
chair, hunted with his hand for his hat.
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