hey said BECAUSE it was that, it would pass," said Barker simply.
"They say that Watson's Bank is in it, and is bound to get it through.
And as that is a rival bank of yours, don't you see, I thought that if
WE could get something real good or valuable out of it,--something that
would do the Black Spur good,--it would be all right."

"And was your business to consult me about it?" said Stacy bluntly.

"No," said Barker, "it's too late to consult you now, though I wish I
had. I've given my word to take it, and I can't back out. But I haven't
the ten thousand dollars, and I came to you."

Stacy slowly settled himself back in his chair, and put both hands in
his pockets. "Not a cent, Barker, not a cent."

"I'm not asking it of the BANK," said Barker, with a smile, "for I could
have gone to the bank for it. But as this was something between us, I am
asking you, Stacy, as my old partner."

"And I am answering you, Barker, as your old partner, but also as the
partner of a hundred other men, who have even a greater right to ask me.
And my answer is, not a cent!"

Barker looked at him with a pale, astonished face and slightly parted
lips. Stacy rose, thrust his hands deeper in his pockets, and standing
before him went on:--

"Now look here! It's time you should understand me and yourself. Three
years ago, when our partnership was dissolved by accident, or mutual
consent, we will say, we started afresh, each on our own hook. Through
foolishness and bad advice you have in those three years hopelessly
involved yourself as you never would have done had we been partners, and
yet in your difficulty you ask me and my new partners to help you out of
a difficulty in which they have no concern."

"Your NEW partners?" stammered Barker.

"Yes, my new partners; for every man who has a share, or a deposit, or
an interest, or a dollar in this bank is my PARTNER--even you, with your
securities at the Branch, are one; and you may say that in THIS I am
protecting you against yourself."

"But you have money--you have private means."

"None to speculate with as you wish me to--on account of my position;
none to give away foolishly as you expect me to--on account of precedent
and example. I am a soulless machine taking care of capital intrusted to
me and my brains, but decidedly NOT to my heart nor my sentiment. So my
answer is, not a cent!"

Barker's face had changed; his color had come back, but with an older
expression. Presently,