long enough to be related. I glanced a piteous appeal to authority,
while old Leggett, still standing by, crumpled his shaven upper lip into
a professional sneer that I did not like.

"That will _do_, Calvin. Sit down! Solon Denney, you may go on."

With careless confidence, brushing the long brown lock from his fair
brow, came Solon Denney to his feet. With flawless self-possession he
read, and I, disgraced, cowering in my seat, heard words that burned
little inconsequential brands forever into my memory. Well do I recall
that the middle-aged gentleman regarded the young man with a look of
surprise, and inquired, "What security can you give me?" to which the
latter answered, "Nothing but my note."

"'Which I fear would be below par in the market,' replied the merchant,
smiling.

"'Perhaps so,' said the young man, 'but, Mr. Barton, remember that the
boy is not the man; the time may come when Hiram Strosser's note will be
as readily accepted as that of any other man.'

"'True, very true,' replied Mr. Barton, thoughtfully, 'but you know
business men seldom lend money without adequate security; otherwise they
might soon be reduced to penury.'"

"Benny Jeliffe, you may go on!"

During this break I stole my second look at her. The small head was
sweetly bent with an air of studious absorption--a head with two long
plaits of braided gold, a scarlet satin bow at the end of each.