there. She's got a letter all written to send to my family. Oh, she's
got me, all right. I've got to have some money for her."

There was an awkward pause. Gordon lay very still, his hands clenched
by his side.

"I'm all in," he continued, his voice trembling. "I'm half crazy,
Phil. If I hadn't known you were coming East, I think I'd have killed
myself. I want you to lend me three hundred dollars."

Dean's hands, which had been patting his bare ankles, were suddenly
quiet--and the curious uncertainty playing between the two became taut
and strained.

After a second Gordon continued:

"I've bled the family until I'm ashamed to ask for another nickel."

Still Dean made no answer.

"Jewel says she's got to have two hundred dollars."

"Tell her where she can go."

"Yes, that sounds easy, but she's got a couple of drunken letters I
wrote her. Unfortunately she's not at all the flabby sort of person
you'd expect."

Dean made an expression of distaste.