Part 51 (1/2)

About six years before I bought this store, he had left town, when his father had moved to Providence. His father had failed there, his mother had died, and Larry, who had always had plenty of spending money, was thrown on his own resources. I had lost track of him, so you can imagine my surprise when he walked into the store one day.

We had a long chat over old times and I took him home for the night.

Then he told me that he had saved up a few hundred dollars, and wanted to get another five hundred dollars, for a little while, to enable him to buy a small stationery business in Providence. His father had been in the paper business, and for that reason he naturally leaned toward that line.

”That's too bad, old man,” I remarked, when he told me that he was five hundred dollars short. ”If I had the money I'd be only too glad to lend it to you,” as, indeed, I would have been.

”That's what I came to see you about, partly,” he replied, leaning over and becoming very serious. ”Now, the present owner of that store is willing to take my note for two months for the five hundred dollars, if I can--find some responsible endorser. Listen, old man,”--and he brought out several sheets of paper all covered with figures. ”Let me tell you exactly the condition of the store.”

The figures that he had seemed to show conclusively that in sixty days at the most he would have sold enough goods to be able to pay the note.

”You see,” said Larry, ”I would have three hundred dollars in cash, anyway, as a working capital, so, in a pinch, I would really only have to find two hundred dollars to pay it. And if you would endorse it for me--there's not the least risk in it, or else I wouldn't ask you--I am willing to pay you interest on the money, if you wish, old man.”

”Larry!” I exclaimed, quite disappointed that he should suggest such a thing as interest. ”Indeed I'll endorse the note for you, but don't you talk of interest, for I'm only too happy to be able to help you a bit!”

Just as I had signed my name on the back of the note, Betty came in.

”What are you doing, Dawson?” she asked sharply.

”Just--” I looked at Larry to see whether he had any objection to my telling Betty about it.

He said, with a little embarra.s.sment: ”It's just a little business matter between Dawson and me.”

”You know, old man,” I said to Larry, ”I talk all my business over with Betty. Of course you won't mind my telling her about this, will you?”

”Why, no,” he returned, as he picked up the note and put it in his pocket.

When I told Betty what it was, to my astonishment she said:

”Well, Dawson, if you allow Mr. Friday to have your endors.e.m.e.nt on a note you are very foolis.h.!.+”

”Betty!” I said, quite mortified to hear her speak so in front of my old friend.

”And,” she continued, looking Larry squarely in the face, ”if Mr. Friday allows his friend to endorse a note for him, I don't think he is much of a friend.”

”I am sorry your wife feels that way about it,” said Larry. ”I guess I'm coming between you two, old man. Here's the note--you better take it back, for I think too much of you to do anything that would affect your happiness. . . . Although I must say that I think Mrs. Black is unjust to you and me.”

”You put that note right back in your pocket!” I commanded. ”Betty,” I said sharply, ”this is a matter which I can handle without any help.

Thank you!”

”Dawson,” said Betty, holding out her hand to me, ”I was vexed.”

”Come, Larry, old man,” I said, ”I've known you too many years to allow my judgment of you to be swayed.”

Larry held out his hand to Betty, who, however, turned coldly away and left the room.

”If you don't mind, old man,” said Larry, ”I'll not stay with you to-night, and if you want that note back--” his hand went toward his pocket.

”No! If the time comes that I can't trust you, I'll tell you so to your face!”