He leaned back and sat in deep thought, Jack watching every expression
that crossed his face. Perhaps Ruth was mixed up in it in some
way. Perhaps their marriage depended upon it--not directly, but
indirectly--making a long postponement inevitable. Perhaps MacFarlane
had some old score to settle. This contracting was precarious business.
Once before he had known Henry to be in just such straits. Again he
consulted his watch.

Then a new and cheering thought struck him. He rose quickly from his
seat on the sofa and crossed the room to get his hat.

"It is a forlorn hope, Jack, but I'll try it. Come back here in an
hour--or stay here and wait."

"No, I'll keep moving," replied Jack. "I have thought of some supply
men who know me; our account is considerable; they would lend it to Mr.
MacFarlane, but that's not the way I want it. I'll see them and get back
as soon as I can--perhaps in a couple of hours."

"Then make it eight o'clock, so as to be sure. I have thought
of something else. Ten thousand dollars," he kept muttering to
himself--"ten thousand dollars"--as he put on his hat and moved to the
door. There he stopped and faced about--his bushy brows tightening as
a new difficulty confronted him. "Well, but for how long?" That part of
the transaction Jack had forgotten to mention.

"I can't tell; maybe a year--maybe more."

Peter advanced a step as if to return to the room and give up the whole
business.

"But Jack, my boy, don't you see how impossible a loan of that kind is?"

Jack stood irresolute. In his mad desire to save Garry he had not
considered that phase of the matter.

"Yes--but I've GOT TO HAVE IT," he cried in a positive tone. "You would
feel just as I do, if you knew the circumstances."

Peter turned without a word and opened the door leading into the hall.
"Be back here at eight," was all he said as he shut the door behind him
and clattered down the uncarpeted stairs.

Shortly before the appointed hour Jack again mounted the three flights
of steps to Peter's rooms. He had had a queer experience--queer for him.
The senior member of one supply firm had looked at him sharply, and
had then said with a contemptuous smile, "Well, we are looking for
ten thousand dollars ourselves, and will pay a commission to get it."
Another had replied that they were short, or would be glad to oblige
him, and as soon as Jack left the office had called to their bookkeeper
to "send MacFarlane his account, and say we