llars and
put down thirty-five dollars. Then as Oscar Fernald and Daniel Frye
came by with long faces the colonel hailed them.

"Boys," he said, "fellow named Haskins down in Fairview, with nine
children and a sick wife, got burnt out last night, and I'm kind of
seeing if we can't get him some lumber and groceries and things. I
want you boys," the colonel saw the clouds gathering and smiled to
brush them away, "yes, I want you boys to give me ten dollars apiece."

"Ten dollars!" cried Fernald.

"Ten dollars!" echoed Frye. "My Lord, man, there isn't ten dollars in
cash between here and the Missouri River!"

"But the man and his children will starve, and his wife will die of
neglect."

"That's the Lord's affair--and yours, Mart," returned Fernald, as he
broke away from the colonel's grasp; "you and He brought them here."
Frye went with Oscar, and they left the colonel with his subscription
paper in his hand. He looked up and down the street and then drew a
long breath, and put the paper against the wall again and sighed as he
erased the thirty-five dollars and put down fifty dollars after his
name. Then he started for the bank to see General Hendricks. The large
white plumes were still dancing in his eyes.

But so far as Barclay is concerned the colonel never reached the
bottom of the stairs, for Barclay had his desk covered with law-books
and was looking up contracts. In an hour he had a draft of a mortgage
and option to buy the mortgaged land written out, and was copying it
for the printer. He took it to the _Banner_ office and asked Brownwell
to put two men on the job, and to have the proof ready by the next
morning.

Brownwell waved both hands magnificently and with much grace, and
said: "Mr. Barclay, we will put three men on the work, sir, and if you
will do me the honour, I will be pleased to bring the proof up Lincoln
Avenue to the home of our mutual friend, Colonel Culpepper, where you
may see it to-night." Barclay fancied that a complacent smile wreathed
Brownwell's face at the prospect of going to the Culpeppers', and the
next instant the man was saying: "Charming young lady, Miss Molly! Ah,
the ladies, the ladies--they will make fools of us. We can't resist
them." He shrugged and smirked and wiggled his fingers and played with
his mustaches. "Wine and women and song, you know--they get us all.
But as for me--no wine, no song--but--" he finished the sentence
with another flourish.

Barclay did what he