CHAPTER VStrange Hobby
I stared at Simon Stannard. Frigidly. Even contemptuously.
“Says who?” I asked. “Does it occur to you, Uncle, that if I don’t want to pay off that piece of usury—which isn’t a moral obligation of mine, by a damn sight—I can just—”
“That’ll be enough out of you, young man,” he snapped angrily, his whole demeanor suddenly become such though I were a boy of 5. “And don’t let me hear any more dirty cracks from you—about usury. When a person lends a pauper, like your father, any money—note or no, note—against an inheritance, that’s wild speculation—and not even investment. Repayment at two for one is little enough ratio to compen—”
“But hold,” I shot back. “Where was the gamble? If he should lose the estate, you were sure to—”
“Enough!” he said, bringing his fist dow
