"The same soap?"

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Dalrymple calculated a moment.

"Yes, I think I would," he replied, cautiously.

"Would you pay me to-day?"

"I'd give you my note for it. Where is the soap?"

He was perplexed and somewhat astonished by this unexpected proposition
on the part of his neighbor's son. He knew Mr. Cowperwood well--and
Frank also.

"Will you take it if I bring it to you to-day?"

"Yes, I will," he replied. "Are you going into the soap business?"

"No. But I know where I can get some of that soap cheap."

He hurried out again and ran to his father's bank. It was after banking
hours; but he knew how to get in, and he knew that his father would be
glad to see him make thirty dollars. He only wanted to borrow the money
for a day.

"What's the trouble, Frank?" asked his father, looking up from his desk
when he appeared, breathless and red faced.