gley, in his slow, deep
tones. "Any brands in the round-up you didn't like the looks of?"

"The bank checks up all right, Mr. Longley," said Todd; "and I find
your loans in very good shape--with one exception. You are carrying
one very bad bit of paper--one that is so bad that I have been
thinking that you surely do not realise the serious position it places
you in. I refer to a call loan of $10,000 made to Thomas Merwin. Not
only is the amount in excess of the maximum sum the bank can loan
any individual legally, but it is absolutely without endorsement or
security. Thus you have doubly violated the national banking laws, and
have laid yourself open to criminal prosecution by the Government. A
report of the matter to the Comptroller of the Currency--which I am
bound to make--would, I am sure, result in the matter being turned
over to the Department of Justice for action. You see what a serious
thing it is."

Bill Longley was leaning his lengthy, slowly moving frame back in his
swivel chair. His hands were clasped behind his head, and he turned a
little to look the examiner in the face. The examiner was surprised to
see a smile creep about the rugged mouth of the banker, and a kindly
twinkle in his light-blue eyes. If he saw the seriousness of the
affair, it did not show in his countenance.

"Of course, you don't know Tom Merwin," said Longley, almost genially.
"Yes, I know about that loan. It hasn't any security except Tom
Merwin's word. Somehow, I've always found that when a man's word is
good it's the best security there is. Oh, yes, I know the Government
doesn't think so. I guess I'll see Tom about that note."

Mr. Todd's dyspepsia seemed to grow suddenly worse. He looked at the
chaparral banker through his double-magnifying glasses in amazement.

"You see," said Longley, easily explaining the thing away, "Tom heard
of 2000 head of two-year-olds down near Rocky Ford on the Rio Grande
that could be had for $8 a head. I reckon 'twas one of old Leandro
Garcia's outfits that he had smuggled over, and he wanted to make a
quick turn on 'em. Those cattle are worth $15 on the hoof in Kansas
City. Tom knew it and I knew it. He had $6,000, and I let him have
the $10,000 to make the deal with. His brother Ed took 'em on to
market three weeks ago. He ought to be back 'most any day now with
the money. When he comes Tom'll pay that note."

The bank examiner was shocked. It was, perhaps, his duty to step out
to the telegrap