Jan felt that he was asking a stupid question. Of course he would have heard of anything of the kind before this. He did not realise the break that Evan's vanity was still putting on Evan's tongue. But when a dirty little document was produced, even now reluctantly, and found to contain that very word "blab," with the time, place and exact amount stipulated, Jan soon saw why it had not been put in before. It referred to a broken appointment on the day of writing. That was another thing Evan had not mentioned. It accounted for his strange unreadiness to play in the match, as well as for the threats accompanying the impudently definite demand.
"This is what he asks, eh? So this would settle him?"
"There's no saying," replied Evan, doubtfully. "I thought we had settled, more or less."
"More or less is no good. Have you nothing to show by way of a receipt?"
"Sandham may have. I know he stumped up a lot that very Sunday you saw us."
"Then what did you think of doing, if you did get out to see him after dinner?"
"Stave him off till the holidays, I suppose."
"You didn't mean to stump up any more?"
"No, I'm hard up, that's the point."
"And you'd have staved him off by promising him a good bit more if he'd wait?"
"By hook or crook!" cried Evan, desperately. "But unless I can get away from the match, I'm done."
Jan put on an air of sombre mystery, lightened only by the crafty twinkle in his eyes. Chips would have read it as Jan's first step to the rescue. But Evan missed the twinkle, and everything else except the explicit statement:
