What can you say to all this?"
McCloskey here gave a smothered groan, and his usually red face grew deadly
pale in contemplation of his danger.
"Now," said Mr. Stevens, after waiting long enough for his revelation to
have its due effect upon him, "there is but one thing to be done. We must
buy Whitticar off. Have you got any money? I don't mean fifty or a hundred
dollars--that would be of no more use than as many pennies. We must have
something of a lump--three or four hundred at the very least."
The prisoner drew his breath very hard at this, and remained silent.
"Come, speak out," continued Mr. Stevens, "circumstances won't admit of
our delaying--this man's friends will raise Heaven and earth to secure your
conviction; so you see, my good fellow, it's your money or your life. You
can decide between the two--you know which is of the most importance to
you."
"God save us, squire! how am I to raise that much money? I haven't more nor
a hunther dollars in the world."
"You've got a house, and a good horse and dray," replied Mr. Stevens, who
was well posted in the man's pecuniary resources. "If you expect me to get
you out of this scrape, you must sell or mortgage your house, and dispose
of your horse and dray. Somehow or other four hundred dollars must be
raised, or you will be dangling at a rope's end in less than six months.
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