"
"What!" yelled Hapgood, leaping to his feet in entire forgetfulness of
his sore muscles.
"That's it. And when the old man says he'll do a thing he'll do it."
Hapgood stared at him speechless. And then, his hands driven deep into
his pockets, he began an agitated pacing up and down the porch, his
brows drawn, his eyes squinting as they had the habit of doing when he
was excited.
"What are we going to do?" he demanded, stopping before Conniston.
"I wish that somebody would tell me! We have a couple of horses. You
have seven dollars. Maybe," with a faint, forced smile, "we can ride
back to New York!"
With a disgusted sniff Hapgood left him again to pace restlessly up
and down. And finally, when he again stopped in front of Conniston's
chair, his face was white, his thin lips set bloodlessly.
"I guess there's only one thing left to us. We'll go on into
Crawfordsville and put up for a day or two while we try to raise some
money. Your seven dollars ought to keep us from starving--"
"Will you wire your father again?"
"No. There would be no use. I tell you that when he says he is going
to do a thing that settles it. If I broke both arms and legs now he
wouldn't pay the doctor's bill."
"Then I'll tell you something, my friend!" The pale little eyes were
glowing, malevolently red. "You've played me for a sucker long enough.
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