home for money, for after that exposure my father said he would only allow me five dollars a month spending money and not a cent more, for the next year. I met one of the men in Oakdale the day before Thanksgiving—after you were away—and he—oh, how can I tell it!—he got me to go to that tavern with him and gamble again, in the hope of winning the money I needed."
"And you gambled, Gus? That was too bad."
"At first I played cards for small amounts, but then the men treated—they insisted upon my drinking—and then we made the stakes larger, and when I came away, instead of winning back the forty dollars, I found myself owing them eighty-five dollars. And now they say if I do not pay up at once they'll expose me to the doctor and my folks." Gus Plum heaved a deep sigh. "Oh, I wish I was dead!" he sobbed.
"Gus, I thought you were going to give up gambling and drinking?"
"I was, but those men persuaded me before I was aware. If I ever get out of this you'll never catch me doing it again—never, as long as I live!"
"You say you owe them eighty-five dollars?"
"Yes."
"Do you owe any more than that?"
"They say I owe the tavern keeper two dollars. But I don't think so. I didn't order anything."
"Have you any money at all?"
