"Before Monday night."
Peter drew out his watch as if to find some relief from its dial,
and slipped it into his pocket again. It was not yet three o'clock
and his bank was still open, but it did not contain ten thousand
dollars or any other sum that he could draw upon. Besides, neither
Jack, nor MacFarlane, nor anybody connected with Jack, had an
account at the Exeter. The discounting of their notes was,
therefore, out of the question.
"To-day is a short business day, Jack, being Saturday," he said
with a sigh. "If I had known of this before I might have--and yet
to tell you the simple truth, my boy, I don't know a human being
in the world who would lend me that much money, or whom I could
ask for it."
"I thought maybe Mr. Morris might, if you went to him, but I
understand he is out of town," returned Jack.
"Yes," answered Peter in a perplexed tone--"yes--Holker has gone
to Chicago and won't be back for a week." He, too, had thought of
Morris and the instantaneous way in which he would have reached
for his check-book.
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