rewd information.

"Shucks," said Noah, "it's so plain that a way-farin' man though a
cotton grower can see. He's kept it over there because he owes about
three hundred thousand dollars on the American side, and as quick as he
takes it across the line there'll be about as many fellows pullin' at
every bale as there are ahold of them overall pants you see advertised."

"But cotton is selling now; it was six cents yesterday," remarked Bob.
"At that he ought to have enough to pay his debts."

Noah Ezekiel snorted: "Reedy isn't livin' to pay his debts. He ain't
hankerin' for receipts; what he wants is currency. His creditors on
the American side are layin' low, because they can't do anything else.
Reedy put one over on 'em when he built this gin. He can hold his
cotton over here for high prices, and let them that he owes on the
American side go somewhere and whistle in a rain barrel to keep from
gettin' dry.

"As my dad used to say, 'The children of this world can give the
children of light four aces and still take the jack pot with a pair of
deuces.'"

Bob knew Noah was right. He had watched Jenkins pretty closely all
winter. Reedy had endeavoured to convince all his creditors, and
succeeded in convincing some, that he had not brought the cotton across
the line because there was no market yet for it. "It is costing us
nothing to leave it over there, so why bring it across and have to pay
storage and also lose the interest on the $25,000 Mexican export duty
which we must pay when it is removed?"

"Noah," remarked Bob, as the little car bumped across the bridge over
the irrigation ditch, "I'm taking you out to see a Chinaman's lease.
He has three hundred acres ready to plant and wants to borrow money to
raise the crop. If you like the field and I like the Chinaman, I'm
going to make the loan."

"Accordin' to my observation," remarked Noah, "a heathen Chinese has
about all the virtues that a Christian ought to have, but ain't
regularly got.

"The other mornin' after I'd been to the Red Owl the night before, I
felt like I needed a cup of coffee. I went round to a Chink that I'd
never met but two or three times, and says, 'John, I'm broke, will you
lend me a hundred dollars?'

"That blasted Chink never batted an eye, never asked me if I owned any
personal property subject to mortgage, nor if I could get three good
men to go on my note. He just says, 'Surlee, Misty Foster,' and dived
down in a greasy old dr