much more dignified or struts much better'n a rooster, but it's the hens that lay the eggs.What did he want, Roscoe?"I made some excuse or other for Mr.Johnson's early call and, taking my cap from the rack, hurried from the house.I went "across lots" and, running a good part of the way, reached the bank just as Sam Wheeler was sweeping out.He expressed surprise at my early arrival and wished to know what was up.
"Ain't nothin' wrong, is there, Ros?" asked Sam anxiously."I saw by the paper that the market was feverish again yesterday."Sam was an ambitious youth and, being desirous of becoming a banker in the shortest possible time, read the financial page with conscientious thoroughness.I assured him that the market's fever was not contagious--at least I had not contracted the disease--and sent him out to sweep the front steps.As soon as he had gone Iopened the safe, found, to my joy, that we had an abundance of currency on hand, cashed the Colton check and locked it securely in the drawer of my own desk.So far I was safe.Now to secure George's safety.
He came in soon after, looking as if, as he had told me, he had not slept for years.He bade Sam good morning and then walked over to my side.
"Well, Ros?" he asked, laying a shaking hand on the desk beside me.
"Not here, George," I whispered."Come into the directors' room."I led the way and he followed me.I closed the door behind us, took the thirty-five hundred dollars in notes from my pocket and laid them on the table.
"There's the money, George," I said."Now you've got just time enough to catch that nine o'clock train for Boston."I thought, for a moment, he was going to collapse altogether.Then he pounced upon the money, counted it with fingers that trembled so he could scarcely control them, and turned to me.
"Ros--Ros--" he stammered."Where did you--how did you--Great God, man! I--I--""There! there!" I interrupted."I told you I wasn't a pauper exactly.Put that where you won't lose it and clear out.You haven't any time to argue.""But--but, Ros, I hadn't ought to take this from you.I don't see where you got it and--""That's my business.Will you go?"
"I don't know as I ever can pay you.Lord knows I'll try all my life, but--"I seized his arm."George," I urged, impatiently, "you fool, don't waste time.Get that train, do you hear! Those bonds must be in that safe by night.Go!"The mention of the bonds did what my urging had failed to do.He crammed the bills into his pocket book, thrust the latter into an inside pocket, and rushed from the room.I followed him as far as the outer door.He was running up the road like a wild man.Sam stared after him.
"For mercy sakes!" he cried, "what's the matter with the boss? Has he gone loony?""No," I said, turning back to my desk; "he's sane enough, I guess.
He's after the train."
"I should think he was after somethin'.Did you see the face he had on him? If he ain't crazy then you and I are, that's all I've got to say.""All right, Sam," I answered, drawing a long breath, "perhaps that's it.Perhaps you and I are the crazy ones--one of us, at any rate."All that day I worked hard.I did not go home for lunch, but sent Sam over to Eldredge's store for canned ham and crackers which Iate at my desk.It was a fairly busy day, fortunately, and I could always find some task to occupy my mind.Lute called, at two o'clock, to inquire why I had not been home and I told him that Taylor was away and I should be late for supper.He departed, shaking his head.
"It's just as I said," he declared, "you're workin' yourself sick, that's what you're doin'.You're growin' foolish in the head about work, just the same as Dorindy.And YOU don't need to; you've got money enough.If I had independent means same as you've got I tell you I'd have more sense.One sick invalid in the family's enough, ain't it?""No doubt, Lute," I replied."At all events you must take care of your health.Don't YOU work yourself sick."Lute turned on me."I try not to," he said, seriously; "I try not to, but it's a hard job.You know what that wife of mine is cal'latin' to have me do next? Wash the hen house window! Yes sir! wash the window so's the hens can look at the scenery, Ipresume likely.I says to her, says I, 'That beats any foolishness ever I heard! Next thing you'll want me to put down a carpet in the pigsty, won't ye? You would if we kept a pig, I know.'""What did she say to that?" I inquired.
"Oh, the land knows! Somethin' about keepin' one pig bein' trouble enough.I didn't pay much attention.But I shan't wash no hen's window, now you can bet on that!"I shouldn't have bet much on it.He went away, to spend the next hour in a political debate at Eldredge's, and I wrote letters, needlessly long ones.Closing time came and Sam went home, leaving me to lock up.The train was due at six-twenty, but it was nearly seven before I heard it whistle at the station.I stood at the front window looking up the road and waiting.
I waited only a few minutes, but they were long ones.Then I saw George coming, not running this time, but walking with rapid strides.The crowd, waiting on the post-office steps, shouted at him but he paid no attention.He sprang up the steps and entered the bank.I stepped forward and seized his hand.One look at his face was enough; he had the bonds, I knew it.
"Ros, you here!" he exclaimed."Is it all right? The examiner hasn't showed up?""No," I answered."You have them, George?""Right in my pocket, thank the Lord--and you, Ros Paine.Just let me get them into that safe and I-- What! You're not going?""Yes, I'm going.I congratulate you, George.I am as glad as you are.Good night.""But Ros, I want to tell you about it.I want to thank you again.
