issued forth Scraggsy's voice raised in song.

"Hello! The old boy's thermometer's gone up, Bart. Listen at him.
'Ever o' thee he's fondly dreamin'.' Somethin's busted the spell
an' I'll bet a cooky it was ready cash." He menaced Mr. McGuffey
with a rigid index finger. "Bart," he demanded, "did you loan
Scraggsy some money?"

The honest McGuffey hung his head. "A little bit," he replied
childishly.

"What d'ye call a little bit?"

"Three hundred dollars, Gib."

"Secured?"

"He gimme his note at eight per cent. The savin's bank only pays
four."

"Is the note secured by endorsement or collateral?"

"No."

"Hum-m-m! Strange you didn't say nothin' to me about this till I
had to pry it out o' you, Bart. How about you?"

"Well, Scraggsy was feelin' so dog-goned blue----"

"The truth," Mr. Gibney insisted firmly, "the truth, Bart."