"I've reaped and I'm sowing, the same as you, Dan."

The other made a nervous motion of protest. "No; not the same as me,
Flood--not the same. It's sink or swim with me, and if you can't help
me--oh, I'd take my gruel without whining, if it wasn't for Di! It's
that knocks me over. It's the shame to her. Oh, what a cursed ass and
fool--and thief, I've been!"

"Thief-thief?"

Flood Rawley dropped the flaming match with which he was about to light
a cheroot, and stood staring, his dark-blue eyes growing wider, his
worn, handsome face becoming drawn, as swift conviction mastered him. He
felt that the black words which had fallen from his friend's lips--from
the lips of Diana Welldon's brother--were the truth. He looked at
the plump face, the full amiable eyes, now misty with fright, at the
characterless hand nervously feeling the golden moustache, at the
well-fed, inert body; and he knew that whatever the trouble or the
peril, Dan Welldon could not surmount it alone.

"What is it?" Rawley asked rather sharply, his fingers running through
his slightly grizzled, black hair, but not excitedly, for he wanted
no scenes; and if this thing could hurt Di Welldon, and action was
necessary, he must remain cool. What she was to him, Heaven and he only
knew; what she had done for him, perhaps neither understood fully as
yet. "What is it--quick?" he added, and his words were like a sharp grip
upon Dan Welldon's shoulder. "Racing--cards?"

Dan nodded. "Yes, over at Askatoon; five hundred on Jibway, the
favourite--he fell at the last fence; five hundred at poker with Nick
Fison; and a thousand in land speculation at Edmonton, on margin.
Everything went wrong."

"And so you put your hand in the railway company's money-chest?"

"It seemed such a dead certainty--Jibway; and the Edmonton
corner-blocks, too. I'd had luck with Nick before; but--well, there it
is, Flood."

"They know--the railway people--Shaughnessy knows?"

"Yes, the president knows. He's at Calgary now. They telegraphed him,
and he wired to give me till midnight to pay up, or go to jail. They're
watching me now. I can't stir. There's no escape, and there's no one I
can ask for help but you. That's why I've come, Flood."

"Lord, what a fool! Couldn't you see what the end would be, if your
plunging didn't come off? You--you oughtn't to bet, or speculate, or
play cards, you're not clever enough. You've got blind rashness, and
so you think you're bold. And Di--oh, you