“But why? The stock may go up any day and then you could withdraw part of your margin.” He struck the table with another blow. “The stock ain't moved for six weeks, I tell you,” he declared. “And, Ros,” he leaned forward, his haggard face working with emotion, “those bonds ain't in our safe here, where they should be, and the bank examiner is due here within the next four days. He's at Middleboro now. I 'phoned Bearse, the cashier there, this very forenoon on a matter of business, and he happened to mention that the examiner was in his bank and working his way down the Cape. It's all up with me! All up! And Nellie! poor girl; I can't be here when she finds it out. I know you think I'm a poor specimen of a man, Ros, but I can't face the music. No,” desperately, “and I won't.” He was giving way again, but I seized his shoulder and shook him. “Stop it!” I commanded. “Stop it, George! Let me think. Be quiet now and let me think. There must be a way out somewhere. Let me think.” He leaned back in his chair. “All right,” he said, hopelessly; “think, if you want to. Though why you should want to think about a thing like me I don't see. And I used to despise a crook as much as any one! and a coward still more! And now I'm both a crook and a coward.” I knew his cowardice was merely on Nellie's account. George Taylor was no coward in the ordinary sense of the word, nor was he a crook. I rose and paced up and down the room. He watched me listlessly; it was plain that he felt no confidence whatever in my being able to help him. After a time he spoke. “It's no use, Ros,” he said. “Don't worry your head about me; I ain't worth it. If there was any way out, any way at all, I'd have sighted it long ago. There ain't. Take my advice and leave me. You don't want to be mixed up with an embezzler.” I turned on him, impatiently. “I have been mixed up, as you call it, with one before,” I said, sharply. “Is my own family record so clean that I need to pretend--there, George! don't be an idiot. Let me think.” The clock chimed ten. I stopped in my walk and turned to him. “George,” I said, “tell me this: If you had the money to buy back these bonds belonging to the bank you would be all right, wouldn't you? If you had it in your hands by to-morrow morning, I mean.” “Yes; IF I had it--but I haven't.” “You could send the money to the brokers and--” “Send! I wouldn't send; I'd go myself and fetch the bonds back with me. Once I had them in that safe again I--” “And you would not take any more risks, even if the market dropped and they had to sell out your account? Even if you lost every cent of your investment?”