“I don’t lend my money,” exclaimed Hargus, shaking his head. “I ain’t got any to lend,” and with the words took himself off.

One source of help alone Jadwin left untried. Sorely tempted, he nevertheless kept himself from involving his wife’s money in the hazard. Laura, in her own name, was possessed of a little fortune; sure as he was of winning, Jadwin none the less hesitated from seeking an auxiliary here. He felt it was a matter of pride. He could not bring himself to make use of a woman’s succour.

But his entire personal fortune now swung in the balance. It was the last fight, the supreme attempt⁠—the final consummate assault, and the thrill of a victory more brilliant, more conclusive, more decisive than any he had ever known, vibrated in Jadwin’s breast, as he went to and fro in Jackson, Adams, and La Salle streets all through that day of the eleventh.