e the money in bank to stand behind that check."

"You have?" inquired Ferrers, opening his eyes wide. "Fellers
at your age have that much money in banks"

"And more, too," Tom nodded. "Did you think, Jim, that we had
never earned any money?"

"Well, I didn't know that you probably made more'n eighteen or
twenty dollars a week," Ferrers declared.

"We've made slightly more than that, with two good railroad jobs
behind us," Tom laughed. "And here's our firm pass-book at the
bank, Jim. You'll see by it that we have a good deal more than
a thousand dollars there. Now, you draw the thousand that the
check calls for. When you're through you may have some money
left. If you do, turn the money in at the bank, have it entered
on the pass-book and then bring the book to me."

"I'll have to think this over," muttered Ferrers, "and you'd better
set down most of it in writing so that I won't forget."

The smoke from the cook fire brought Alf Drew in from hiding, his
finger-tips stained brown as usual.

"Now, see here, young man," said Tom gravely, "there is no objection
to your taking some of your time off with your 'makings,' but
Ferrers is going away, and you must stay around more for the next
two or three days. Otherwise, there won't be any meals or any
payday coming to you."

"Is Mr. Ferrers going to Dugout City?" asked Alf, with sudden
interest.

"Yes."

"Say, I'll work mighty hard if you'll advance me fifty cents and
let me get an errand done by Mr. Ferrers."

"Here's the money," smiled Tom, passing over the half dollar.

Alf was in such haste that he forgot to express his thanks. Racing
over to Jim the little fellow said something in a very low voice.

"No; I won't!" roared Ferrers. "Nothing of the sort!"

"Does he want you to get the 'makings,' Jim!" called Tom.

"Yes; but I won't do it," the guide retorted.

"Please do," asked Tom.

"What? _You_ ask me to do it, sir? Then all right. I will."

"What do you want to do that for?" murmured Harry.

"Let the poor little runt have his 'makings,' if he wants," Tom
proposed. "But I don't believe that Alf will smoke the little white
pests very much longer."

"You're going to stop him?"

"I'm going to make him want to stop it himself," Tom rejoined,
with a slight grin.

Alf came back, looking much pleased.

"Let me feel your pulse," requested Reade. "Now, let me see your
tongue."

This much accomplished, Tom next turned down the under l