"How much have ye?"

There was something in Tip's ugly eyes that scared the boy. Fred
went quickly through his pockets, producing, finally, six dollars
and a half.

"I'll give you six of this, Tip," proposed Fred, rather miserably.

"Ye'll give me _all_ of it, ye mean," responded Scammon. "And ye'll
meet me to-morrow aft'noon with five more---something for interest,
ye know."

"But I won't have five dollars again, as soon as that," argued
Fred, weakly.

"Yes, you will," leered Tip. "You'll have to!"

"What do you mean?" demanded Fred, trying to bluster, but making
a failure of the attempt.

"It'll take five more to give me lock-jaw," declared Scammon.
"I'm jest out of prison, and I mean to enjoy myself restin' a
few days before I settle down to a job again. So, to-morrow,
turn up with the five!"

"I don't know where to get the money."

"Find out, then," sneered the other. "I don't care where you
get it, but you've got to get it and hand it over to me to-morrow,
or it'll be too late, an' Gridley'll be too hot a place for 'ye!"