after enjoying Keith's
surprise, "I had rather have my money in land than in one of these here
banks. I has seen wild-cat money and Confederate money, and land's land.
I don't know that it is much of a compliment to say that I has more
confidence in you than I has in these here men what has come down from
nobody-knows-where to open a bank on nobody-knows-what."

Keith expressed his appreciation of the compliment, but thought that
they must have something to bank on.

"Oh, they've got something," admitted the capitalist. "But you know what
it is. They bank on brass and credulity. That's what I calls it."

The old man's face clouded. "I had been puttin' that by for Phrony," he
said. "But she didn't want it. _My_ money warn't good enough for her.
Some day she'll know better."

Keith waited for his humor to pass.

"I won't ever do nothin' for her; but if ever you see her, I'd like you
to help her out if she needs it," he said huskily.

Keith promised faithfully that he would.

That afternoon Terpy knocked at his door, and came in with that mingled
shyness and boldness which was characteristic of her.

Keith offered her a chair and began to thank her for having saved his
life.

"Well, I am always becoming indebted to you anew for saving my life--"

"I didn't come for that," declared the girl. "I didn't save your life. I
just went down to do what I could to help you. You know how that mine
got flooded?"

"I do," said Keith.

"They done it to do you," she said; "and they made Bill believe it was
to hurt Wickersham. Bill's dead now, an' I don't want you to think he
had anything against you." She began to cry.

All this was new to Keith, and he said so.

"Well, you won't say anything about what I said about Bill. J. Quincy
made him think 'twas against Wickersham, and he was that drunk he didn't
know what a fool they was makin' of him.--You are going away?" she
said suddenly.

"Oh, only for a very little while--I am going off about a little
business for a short time. I expect to be back very soon."

"Ah! I heard--I am glad to hear that you are coming back." She was
manifestly embarrassed, and Keith was wondering more and more what she
wanted of him. "I just wanted to say good-by. I am going away." She was
fumbling at her wrap. "And to tell you I have changed my business. I'm
not goin' to keep a dance-house any longer."

"I am glad of that," said Keith, and then stuck fast again.

"I don't think a girl ought