"This is a beautiful day, gentlemen. A fine, balmy spring day. Let us be
out and away to mossy dells. Why stay in this low drinking-place when
all Nature beckons? Come on back to Hoffmuller's. Besides,"--he cast a
reproachful look at the bar-tender,--"the hospitality of this place is
not what an upright citizen of this great republic has a right to expect
when he's throwing his good money right and left."

He marched out in hurt dignity, followed by his train, many of whom, in
loyalty to their host, sneered openly at the bar-tender as they passed.

Outside the Colonel poised himself in gala attitude, and benignantly
surveyed our quiet little Main Street in both directions. Across the way
in the door of the First National Bank stood Asa Bundy, a look of
interest on his face.

The Colonel's sweeping glance halted upon Bundy. With a glad cry he
started across to him, but Bundy, beholding the move, fled actively
inside. The Colonel reached the door of the bank and tried the knob, but
the key had been turned in the lock, and the next moment the curtains of
the door were swiftly drawn. "Bank Closed" was printed upon them in
large gold letters.

Potts stepped aside to look into the window, and the curtain of that
descended relentlessly. The bank had suddenly taken on an aspect of
Sabbath blankness. Once more the Colonel rattled the knob, then he
turned to his gathering followers.

"Gentlemen, I came here to press the hand of one of Nature's noblemen,
my tried friend, the Honorable Asa Bundy, whom we have just seen
retreating to his precincts, as I might say, with a modesty that is