"They are good even if you haven't the money to meet them! I guess Judge
Langham's indorsement is worth something, and Linscott's a rich man;
even Moxlow's got some property. Those are the three who are on your
paper, and the paper's considerably overdue."

Langham turned a pale face on the gambler.

"You won't do that, Andy!" he said, in a voice which he vainly strove to
hold steady.

"Won't I? Do you think I'm in business for my health?" And he laughed
shortly, then he wheeled on Langham with unexpected fierceness. "I'll
give you until the first of the month, Marsh, and then I'm going after
you without gloves. I don't care a damn who squares the account; your
indorsers' cash will suit me as well as your own." He caught the
expression on Langham's face, its deathly pallor, the hunted look in his
eyes, and paused suddenly. The shadow of a slow smile fixed itself at
the corners of his mouth, he put out a hand and rested it on Langham's
shoulder. "You damn fool! Have you tried that trick on me? I'll take
those notes to the bank in the morning and see if the signatures are
genuine."

"Do it!" Langham spoke in a whisper.

"Maybe you think I won't!" sneered the gambler. "Maybe you'd rather I
didn't, eh? It will hardly suit you to have me show those notes?"

"Do what you like; whatever suggests itself to a scurvy whelp like you!"
said Langham.