ere are going to be some fortunes made in raising cotton over
there," Bob nodded toward the Mexican line, "in the next four years
that will sound like an Arabian Nights' tale of farming.

"I figured it out this summer. That land is all for lease; it is
level, it is rich. They get water cheaper than we do on this side; and
I can get Chinese help, which is the best field labour in the world,
for sixty-five cents to a dollar a day. I was planning before this
smash came to plant six hundred acres of cotton next year."

"That's what I wanted to see you about," said Crill. "Want to lend
some money over there, and you are the fellow to do it. Want to lend
it to fellows you can trust on their honour without any mortgages.
Guess mortgages over there aren't much account anyway.

"Want to keep the cotton industry up here in the valley. May want to
start a cotton mill myself. Anyway," he added, belligerently, "a lot
of 'em are about to lose their cotton crops; and this is a good time to
stick 'em for a stiff rate of interest. Charge 'em 10 per cent--and
half the cotton seed. I'm no philanthropist."

Bob smiled discreetly at the fierceness. That was the usual rate for
loans on the Mexican side. And it was very reasonable considering the
risk.

"Want to hire you," said the old man, "to lend money on cotton--and
collect it. What you want a month?"

"I'll do it for $150 a month," answered Bob, "if it does not interfere
with my own cotton growing next spring."

"We can fix that," agreed the old man.

"I think," replied Bob, "the best loans and the greatest help would be
just now on the cotton already baled and at the compress. Most of the
growers have debts for leases and water and supplies and borrowed money
against their cotton, and cannot sell it at any price. Unless they do
sell or can borrow on it by January first, these debts will take the
cotton. If you would lend them six cents a pound on their compress
receipts that would put most of them in the clear, and enable them to
hold on a few months for a possible rise in price."

"That's your business." The old gentleman got up briskly. "I'll put
$25,000 to your credit in the morning at the International Bank. It's
your job to lend it. When it's gone, let me know."

"Oh, by the way," Bob's heart had been beating excitedly through all
this arrangement, but he had hesitated to ask what was on his mind.
"Do you mind if--if I lend myself five cents a pound on