snap.

"And there's another thing bothers me, Weary. It's going to
be one peach of a job to make the boys believe it hard enough
to make their entries in time." Andy grinned wrily. "By
gracious, this is where I could see a gilt-edged reputation
for telling the truth!"

"You could, all right," Weary agreed sympathetically. "It's
going to strain our swallowers to get all that down, and
that's a fact. You ought to have some proof, if you want the
boys to grab it, Andy." His face sobered. "Who is this
Florence person? If you could get some kinda proof--a letter,
say . . ."

"Easiest thing in the world!" Andy brightened at the
suggestion. "She's stopping at the Park, in Great Falls, and
she wanted me to come up or write. Anybody going to town
right away? I'll send that foxy dame a letter that'll produce
proof enough. You've helped ma a lot, Weary."

Weary scrutinized him sharply and puckered his lips into a
doubtful expression. "I wish I knew for a fact whether all
this is straight goods, Andy," he "said pensively. "Chances
are you're just stringing me. But if you are, old boy, I'm
going to take it outa your hide--and don't you forget that."
He grinned at his own mental predicament. "Honest, Andy, is
this some josh, or do you mean it?"

"By gracious, I wish it was a josh! But it ain't, darn it. In