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"About Beetle lendin' money to Stalky," began Harrison; "and then Beetle went and told him that there was any amount of money-lendin' in the house." "No, you don't," said Beetle, sitting on a boot-basket. "That's just what I didn't tell him. I spoke the giddy truth. He asked me if there was much of it in the house; and I said I didn't know."
That was how it was, Padre. I don't know what happened after that." "I was too truthful," said Beetle. "I always am. You see, he was under an impression, Padre, and I suppose I ought to have corrected that impression; but of course I couldn't be quite certain that his house wasn't given over to money-lendin', could I? I thought the house-prefects might know more about it than I did. They ought to.
"If that's so," said he, "you must give me a little time to think. There's mortgages, o' course: and there's deals to be done in shipping: and there's money-lendin, though you'd object to that, maybe. . . . Anyway, you come to me to-morrow, and I may have something to propose." "Thank 'ee. I take that as friendly." "Right."
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