"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.
You towed me along out into this cursed West of yours, making me think
all the time that when you got ready to call on your father he'd come
through like a flash. And you knew that he had turned you out for
good. Now I am through with you. Get that? I mean it! And if I have
seven dollars I guess I'll need it myself before I get out of this
pickle you've got me into!"

Conniston stared at him incredulously. "Come, now, Roger. You don't
mean--"

"But I do, Mr. William Conniston, fraud! I'm through with you."

Conniston got to his feet, his own face as white as Hapgood's.

"You mean what you are saying?"

"I most certainly and positively do!"