n bank, where he had
intended putting it, it was here, in the house, in the house of Miss
Martha Phipps, who might find it at any time.

He tried various hiding places, the drawers of his bureau, the
table drawer, under the straw matting in the corner, but none seemed
satisfactorily secure. Under the matting was, at first thought, ideal,
but, after secreting it there and getting into bed, he remembered that
Martha had declared his room needed new matting and, if ever she
could afford that cost, new matting it should have. Having come into
possession of five thousand dollars, she might feel that she could now
afford it. He climbed, shivering, out of bed again, resurrected the
certificate and hid it under his pillow, an orthodox but safe hiding
place for that night only. The next morning he wrapped it in a summer
undergarment and placed the said garment at the bottom of a pile of
similar intimacies in his bureau drawer. And each night of the following
week, before retiring, he dug it out to make sure of its safety.

The day after her boarder's return from Boston, Martha went over to
Wellmouth Centre. The bank there had charge of her account, such as it
was, and she wished to have it take charge of the, to her, huge sum of
real money which Mr. Bangs had brought. She told the cashier that
she was desirous of speaking with him on a matter of business, and he
invited her into his little room at the end of the counter. There she
took from her "Boston bag" a brown paper parcel and, unwrapping the
brown paper, disclosed the five thousand dollars.

Cashiers of small town banks know the true financial strength and
weakness of dwellers in those towns, just as the doctors know their
physical ones. Mr. Edgar Thacher, which was the cashier's name in this
instance, knew how much of an estate Cap'n Jim Phipps had left his
daughter and how that estate was divided as to investments. So he was
surprised when Martha revealed the money.

"Good land, Martha!" he exclaimed. "What's happened? Haven't gone into
the counterfeiting trade, have you?"

Martha smilingly shook her head. "No, Edgar," she said. "It's too late
in life for me to begin learnin' new trades, I guess. Just count that,
will you, please? I want to make sure it's all there and that I didn't
really have only half of it and dream the rest."

The cashier counted the money. "Five thousand, I make it," he said.

"That's what it ought to be. Now will you put that to my account?