"This is my esteemed friend, Mr. Josiah Bean, of Haydown Center. He has business with Mr. Cameron, I believe." "I'm here to collect six hundred dollars," said Josiah Bean. "Mr. Cameron writ me some letters about it." "Very well, sir. Sit down, gentlemen, and I'll tell Mr. Cameron." The two were kept waiting for a few minutes and were then ushered into a private office. Through Chase, the clerk, Henry Davis was introduced and then Josiah Bean. All the papers proved to be correct, and after the old farmer had signed his name he was given a check. "See here, I want the cash," he demanded. "Very well," said Mr. Cameron. "Indorse the check and I'll have the money drawn for you across the street." The farmer wrote down his name once more, and a few minutes later received his six hundred dollars in twelve brand-new fifty-dollar bills. "Gosh! Them will be nice fer Mirandy to look at," was his comment, as he surveyed the bills. "Be careful that you don't lose them, Mr. Bean," cautioned Henry Davis, as the two left the establishment. "Reckon the best thing I can do is to git back to hum this afternoon," remarked Josiah Bean, when he was on the street. "Oh, now you are in town you'll have to look around a bit," said the slick-looking individual. "You can take a train back to-morrow just as well. Let me show you a few of the sights." This tickled the old farmer and he agreed to remain over until the next noon. Then Henry Davis dragged the old man around to various points of interest and grew more familiar than ever. While they were at the top of one of the big office buildings Henry Davis pretended to drop his pocketbook. "How careless of me!" he cried. "Got much in it?" queried Josiah Bean. "Three thousand dollars." "Do tell! It's a powerful sight o' money to carry so careless like." "It is. Maybe you had better carry it for me, Mr. Bean."