But
he said it was merely temporary, and that they had better even up by
buying some more cotton. John went down into the vault and came back
with four more Overland 4s bonds under his coat. He was in for it now
and might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb. He was beginning to
get used to the idea of being a thief. He was, to be sure, wretchedly
unhappy, but he was experiencing the excitement of trying to dodge Fate
until Fortune looked his way. Cotton still went down. It never occurred
to him that Prescott perhaps had not bought all the cotton. Now that he
is in prison he thinks maybe Prescott didn't. But he kept going down
into the vault and bringing up more bonds, and, getting reckless, bought
more cotton--quantities of it. In a month sixty bonds were gone from the
pile of two hundred. John, a nervous wreck, almost laughed, grimly, at
the joke of _his_ being short sixty bonds!
At home they thought he was getting run down. His wife--! He was so
kind and thoughtful that she had never been so happy. It made her
fearful that he had some fatal disease and knew he was going to die.
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