I'm going to treat myself to a few airs, and you can pat yourself on the back when you've dug up the money by the end of the month! You'll have done something to feel proud of, too." "Suppose we say a thousand," urged Langham.
"Good old Marsh! If you keep on raising yourself like this you'll soon get to a figure where we can talk business!" Gilmore laughed.
"Perhaps I can raise a thousand dollars.

I don't know why I should think I can, but I'm willing to try; I'm willing to say I'll try--" Gilmore shook his head.
"I've told you what you got to do, Marsh, and I mean every damn word I say,--understand that?
I'm going to have my money or I'm going to have the fun of smashing you." "Listen to me, Andy!" began Langham desperately.
"Why take me into your confidence ?" asked the gambler coldly.
"What will you gain by ruining me ?" repeated Langham fiercely.
The gambler only grinned.
"I am always willing to spend money on my pleasures; and besides when those notes turn up, your father or some one else will have to come across." Langham was silent.

He was staring out across the empty snow-strewn Square at the lights in Archibald McBride's windows.
"Remember," said Gilmore, moving toward the door.

"I'll talk to you when you got two thousand dollars." "Damn you, where do you think I'll get it ?" cried Langham.
"I'm not good at guessing," laughed Gilmore.
He turned without another word or look and left the room.

His footsteps echoed loudly in the hall and on the stairs, and then there was silence in the building.