, and answered far from the point. "I guess
I've got to start out there pretty soon, Persis."

"How soon?"

"Well, to-morrow morning."

Mrs. Lapham sat silent. Then, "All right," she said. "I'll get you
ready."

"I shall run up to Lapham for Irene, and then I'll push on through
Canada. I can get there about as quick."

"Is it anything you can tell me about, Silas?"

"Yes," said Lapham. "But it's a long story, and I guess you've got
your hands pretty full as it is. I've been throwing good money after
bad,--the usual way,--and now I've got to see if I can save the
pieces."

After a moment Mrs. Lapham asked, "Is it--Rogers?"

"It's Rogers."

"I didn't want you should get in any deeper with him."

"No. You didn't want I should press him either; and I had to do one or
the other. And so I got in deeper."

"Silas," said his wife, "I'm afraid I made you!"

"It's all right, Persis, as far forth as that goes. I was glad to make
it up with him--I jumped at the chance. I guess Rogers saw that he had
a soft thing in me, and he's worked it for all it was worth. But it'll
all come out right in the end."

Lapham said this as if he did not care to talk any more about it. He
added casually, "Pretty near everybody but the fellows that owe ME seem
to expect me to do a cash business, all of a sudden."

"Do you mean that you've got payments to make, and that people are not
paying YOU?"

Lapham winced a little. "Something like that," he said, and he lighted
a cigar. "But when I tell you it's all right, I mean it, Persis. I
ain't going to let the grass grow under my feet, though,--especially
while Rogers digs the ground away from the roots."

"What are you going to do?"

"If it has to come to that, I'm going to squeeze him." Lapham's
countenance lighted up with greater joy than had yet visited it since
the day they had driven out to Brookline. "Milton K. Rogers is a
rascal, if you want to know; or else all the signs fail. But I guess
he'll find he's got his come-uppance." Lapham shut his lips so that the
short, reddish-grey beard stuck straight out on them.

"What's he done?"

"What's he done? Well, now, I'll tell you what he's done, Persis, since
you think Rogers is such a saint, and that I used him so badly in
getting him out of the business. He's been dabbling in every sort of
fool thing you can lay your tongue to,--wild-cat stocks, patent-rights,
land speculations, oil claims,--till he's run throu