"

"I couldn't get it," muttered Fred.

"Now, see here, pal," warned Tip, threateningly, "don't try to
pull no roots on me. Ye can get all the money ye want."

"I couldn't this time," Fred contended, stubbornly. "I've got
eleven dollars, and that's every bit I could get my hands on."

"But I've _got_ to have twenty," muttered Tip, fiercely. "Now,
ye trot back and look through yer Sunday-best suit. You have
money enough; yer father's rich, an' he gives ye a lot. Now,
ye've no business spendin' any o' that money until ye've paid
me what's proper comin' to me. So back to the house with ye,
and get the rest o' yer money!"

"It's no use, Tip. I simply can't get another dollar. Here's
the eleven, and you'd better be off with it. I can't get any
more, either, inside of a fortnight."

"See here," raged young Scammon, "if ye think ye can play-----"

"Take this money and get off," demanded Fred, impatiently. "I'm
going back home and to bed."

"I guess, boy, it's about time fer me to see your old man," blustered
Tip. "If I hold off until to-morrer afternoon, will ye have the
other nine, an' an extry dollar fer me trouble?"

"No," rasped Fred. "It's no use at all---not for another fortnight,
anyway. Good night!"

Turning, Fred sped across the street and back under the shadows
at the rear of the lawyer's great house.

"I wonder if the younker's gettin' wise?" murmured Tip. "He ain't
smart enough to know that fer him to go to his old man an' tell
the whole yarn 'ud be cheapest in the run. The old man 'ud be
mad at Rip, but the old man's a lawyer, an' 'ud know how to lay
down the blackmail law to me!"

Feeling certain that he was wholly alone by this time, Tip had
spoken the words aloud or sufficiently so for him to be heard
a few feet away by any lurker.

Shivering a bit, for he was none too warmly clad, young Scammon
turned, making his way up the street.

Fully two minutes after Tip had gone his way Dick Prescott stepped
out from behind the place where Tip had been standing.

There was a queer and rather puzzled look on Dick's face.

"So Fred's paying Tip money, and Tip knows it's blackmail?" muttered
the sophomore. "That can mean just one thing then. When Tip
held his tongue before and at his trial, last year, he was looking
ahead to the time when he could extort money by threatening Fred.
And now Tip's doing it. That must be the way he gets his living.
Whew, but Ripley must be allowed a heap