t twenty-four thousand dollars
in currency. If you'll just endorse it--"

"But it ain't my money!" said Pete.

"You're a fool if you don't take it, young man. From what I have heard
you'll need it. It seems that Jim took a fancy to you. Said you had
played square with him--about that last deposit, I suppose. You don't
happen to have a letter with you, from him, I suppose, do you?"

"I got this,"--and Pete showed President Hodges The Spider's note,
which Hodges read and returned. "That was like Jim. He wouldn't
listen to me."

"And this was his money?" Pete was unable to realize the significance
of it all.

"Yes. Now it's yours. You're lucky! Mighty lucky! Just endorse the
draft--right here. I'll have it cashed for you."

"Write my name?"

"Yes, your full name, here."

"And I git twenty-four thousand dollars for this?"

"If you want to carry that much around with you. I'd advise you to
deposit the draft and draw against it."

"If it's mine, I reckon I'd like to jest git it in my hands onct,
anyhow. I'd like to see what that much money feels like."

Pete slowly wrote his name, thinking of The Spider and Pop Annersley as
he did so. Hodges took the draft, pressed a button, and a clerk
appeared, took the draft, and presently returned with the money in gold
and bank-notes of large denomination.

When he had gone out, Hodges turned to Pete. "What are you going to do
with it? It's none of my business--now. But Jim and I were
friends--and if I can do anything--"

"I reckon I'll put it back in--to my name," said Pete. "I sure ain't
scared to leave it with you--for The Spider he weren't."

Hodges smiled grimly, and pressed a button on his desk. "New account,"
he told the clerk.

Pete sighed heavily when the matter had been adjusted, the
identification signature slips signed, and the bank-book made out in
his name.

Hodges himself introduced Pete at the teller's window, thanked Pete
officially for patronizing the bank, and shook hands with him. "Any
time you need funds, just come in--or write to me," said Hodges.
"Good-bye, and good luck."

Pete stumbled out of the bank and down the steps to the sidewalk. He
was rich--worth twenty-four thousand dollars! But why had The Spider
left this money to him? Surely The Spider had had some other
friend--or some relative . . . ?

"Step right in," said Sheriff Owen. "You look kind of white. Feeling
shaky?"

"Some."

"We want to go to the