"So I dropped ye that note, tellin' ye to come here at three this
aft'noon," Scammon continued. "I told ye I hoped ye'd find it
convenient to come, an' hinted that if ye didn't, ye might wish
later, that ye had."

"I'm here," retorted the Ripley heir. "Now, what do you want
to say to me?"

"I'm broke," Tip informed Ripley, plaintively. "Stony! Understand?
I hain't got no money."

"You don't expect me to furnish you with any?" demanded Fred,
his eyes opening wide in astonishment. "I paid you, in full,
last year."

"Ye didn't pay me fer the stretch I done, did ye?" demanded Tip,
insolently. "How much did ye pay me for keeping my mouth closed,
so you wouldn't have to do your stretch?"

Fred winced painfully under that steady, half-ugly glance of the
other.

"And now," continued Scammon, in a half-hurt way, "ye think it's
hard if I tell ye that I want a few dollars to keep food in my
insides."

"You've got your father," hinted Fred.

"Sure, I have," Tip assented.