Scutts, slowly--"if he wasn't hurt."
"You're the last on my list," said the other, hastily. He produced a
slip of paper from his pocket-book and placed it on the small table,
with a fountain pen. Then, with a smile that was both tender and
playful, he plunged his hand in his pocket and poured a stream of gold
on the table.
"What do you say to thir-ty pounds?" he said, in a hushed voice.
"Thirty golden goblins?"
"What for?" inquired Mr. Scutts, with a notable lack of interest.
"For--well, to go away for a day or two," said the visitor. "I find you
in bed; it may be a cold or a bilious attack; or perhaps you had a
little upset of the nerves when the trains kissed each other."
"I'm in bed--because--I can't walk-or stand," said Mr. Scutts, speaking
very distinctly. "I'm on my club, and if as 'ow I get well in a day or
two, there's no reason why the company should give me any money. I'm
pore, but I'm honest."
"Take my advice as a friend," said the other; "take the money while you
can get it."
He nodded significantly at Mr. Scutts and closed one eye. Mr. Scutts
closed both of his.
"I 'ad my back hurt in the collision," he said, after a long pause.
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