Dicky could not subscribe to any amusement, so he found
no amusement except the pleasure of turning over his Bank-book and reading what
it said about "loans on approved security." That cost nothing. He remitted
through a Bombay Bank, by the way, and the Station knew nothing of his private
affairs.
Every month he sent Home all he could possibly spare for his wife--and for
another reason which was expected to explain itself shortly and would require
more money.
About this time, Dicky was overtaken with the nervous, haunting fear that
besets married men when they are out of sorts. He had no pension to look to.
What if he should die suddenly, and leave his wife unprovided for? The thought
used to lay hold of him in the still, hot nights on the roof, till the shaking
of his heart made him think that he was going to die then and there of heart-
disease.
Now this is a frame of mind which no boy has a right to know. It is a strong
man's trouble; but, coming when it did, it nearly drove poor punkah-less,
perspiring Dicky Hatt mad. He could tell no one about it.
A certain amount of "screw" is as necessary for a man as for a billiard-ball.
It makes them both do wonderful things. Dicky needed money badly, and he worked
for it like a horse.
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