Just after the two had been taken care of, and while the crowd still
lingered, a young man pushed his way through to the center of the crowd.
"I heard that Jim Duff had returned to town," began the young man. The
speaker was Clarence Farnsworth, the foolish young easterner who had
been sadly fleeced by the gambler.
"Yes; Duff came back," said Mr. Hawkins, quietly.
"Where is he?" asked Farnsworth. "I must leave in the morning, and I
owe Duff seven hundred dollars. I want to pay it to him."
"Money you lost gambling with Duff?" questioned Hawkins.
"It's a debt of honor that I owe Mr. Duff," Farnsworth replied, flushing
considerably.
"Son, take one little hint from me," continued Hawkins. "No money ever
lost to a gambler in card playing is a debt of honor. It's merely the
liability of a chump and a fool. No gambler ever uses any real honor.
Men of honor work for the money that they need or want. Duff had a
smooth way of talking, an agreeable manner with his profitable victims,
but he never had a shred of honor.
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