"But it's mighty little he'll do for me until I get a job and
settle down to it."

"Well, why don't you?" asked Fred Ripley. "That's the surest
way to get straight with the world."

"When I want advice," sneered Scammon, "I won't tramp all the
way out here, an' ask _you_ for it. Nope. I don't want advice.
What I want is money."

"Oh, well, Tip, I'm sorry for you and your troubles. Here's a
dollar for you. I wish I could make it more."

Fred Ripley drew out the greenback, passing it over. Tip took
the money, studying it curiously.

"Ye're sorry just a dollar's worth---is that it? Well, old pal,
ye'll have to be more sorry'n that. I'll let ye off fer ten dollars,
but hand it over quick!"

Fred's first impulse was to get angry, but it didn't take him
more than an instant to realize that it would be better to keep
this fellow quiet.

"I haven't ten dollars, Tip---on my honor," he protested, hesitatingly.

"On yer---what?" questioned Scammon, with utter scorn.

"I haven't ten dollars."