“Well, would it be any use for you to ask Arthur Breen? He wouldn't give me a cent, and I wouldn't ask him. I don't believe in laying down on your wife's relations, but he might do it for you now that you're getting up in the world.” Jack bent his head in deep thought. The proposal that his uncle had made him for the ore lands passed in review. At that time he could have turned over the property to Breen. But it was worthless now. He shook his head: “I don't think so.” Then he added quickly--“Have you been to Mr. Morris?” “No, and won't. I'd die first!” this came in a sharp, determined voice, as if it had jumped hot from his heart. “But he thinks the world of you; it was only a week ago that he told Mr. MacFarlane that you were the best man he ever had in his office.” “Yes,--that's why I won't go, Jack. I'll play my hand alone and take the consequences, but I won't beg of my friends; not a friend like Mr. Morris; any coward can do that. Mr. Morris believes in me,--I want him to continue to believe in me. That's worth twenty times ten thousand dollars.” His eyes flashed for the first time. Again the old Garry shone out. “When must you have this money?” “By the end of the week,--before next Monday, anyhow.” “Then the situation is not hopeless?” “No, not entirely. I have one card left;--I'll play it to-morrow, then I'll know.” “Is there a chance of its winning?” “Yes and no. As for the 'yes,' I've always had my father's luck. Minotts don't go under and I don't believe I shall, we take risks and we win. That's what brought me to Corklesville, and you see what I have made of myself. Just at present I've got my foot in a bear trap, but I'll pull out somehow. As for the 'no' part of it,--I ought to tell you that the warehouse stock has been knocked endways by another corporation which has a right of way that cuts ours and is going to steal our business. I think it's a put-up job to bear our stock so they can scoop it and consolidate; that's why I am holding on. I've flung in every dollar I can rake and scrape for margin and my stocking's about turned inside out. I got a tip last week that I thought would land us all on our feet, but it worked the other way.” Something connected with the tip must have stirred him for his face clouded as he rose to his feet, exclaiming: “Have a drop, Jack?--that last one braced me up.” Again Jack shook his head, and again Garry settled himself back in his chair.