a rush and the high spirits of glorious and
thoughtless youth. Lyman went to the window and gazed over at the
bank. The place looked cool and dignified, the province of a bank when
other places of business have been forced to an early opening. Lyman
smiled at the reflection that there was no crape on the door, as if he
had half expected to find it there. "He couldn't let me have a hundred
dollars when I offered to give him a mortgage on the library," he
mused. "Said he couldn't, but he was willing enough to offer the money
in exchange for another sort of mortgage. I suppose he thinks it
strange that I was not bought upon the instant."

"Well," said Warren, entering the room, "I paid the tramp thirty cents
for his time and he has gone away happier than if he had been put to
work. What are you doing? Looking at dad's temple? Fine prospect."

"Yes, for dad."

"But don't you let him browbeat you out of your rights."

"I won't. The son-in-law has rights which the father-in-law ought to
respect. What sort of a fellow is Zeb Sawyer?"

"Good deal of a bully," Warren answered, standing beside Lyman and
looking through the window as if to keep company with the survey of
the bank. "He managed by industry and close attention to shoot a man,
I understand, and that gave him a kind of pull with society, although
the fellow didn't die. He's a hustler and makes money, and of course
has a firm grip on McElwin's heart. There are worse fellows, although
he didn't renew his subscription when the time ran out."

While they were looking the porter opened the door of the bank.

"They are going to transact business just the same," said Lyman.

"Yes, they've got to pull teeth, no matter what has happened. Do you
know that there are lots of fellows around town that would like to
come up here and congratulate you, but they are afraid of McElwin."

"I wonder Caruthers hasn't come," said Lyman.

"No you don't. You've got no use for him and have told him so. Helloa,
yonder comes McElwin and Sawyer. They are crossing the street. By
George, I believe they are coming here."

"All right. Let's step back and stand at ease ready to receive them."

"Say, I believe there's going to be trouble here," said Warren. "And
if there is you wouldn't mind writing it up, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't mind. Ordinary trouble is not quite so personally
embarrassing as a marriage."

"Shall I keep the columns open?" Warren asked, his eyes dancing.

"No, no