forwards, we can do up this deal in short order. You sign this
contract, which is exactly like all the others we use, and I'll
hand over your check. We get the bottom; you keep the top; I give
you the sixteen thousand, and the thing is done."

"Well, Martin," he added, genially, as Wade signed his name,
"it's a long day since you came in with your father to make that
first loan to buy seed corn. Wouldn't he have opened his eyes if
any one had prophesied this? It's a pity your mother couldn't
have lived to enjoy your good fortune. A fine, plucky woman, your
mother. They don't make many like her."

Long after Robinson's buggy was out of sight, Martin stood in his
doorway and stared at the five handsome figures, spelled out the
even more convincing words and admired the excellent reproduction
of The First State Bank.

"This is a whole lot of money," his thoughts ran. "I'm rich. All
this land still mine--practically as much mine as ever--all this
stock and twenty thousand dollars in money--in cash. It's a fact.
I, Martin Wade, am rich."

He remembered how he had exulted, how jubilant, even intoxicated,
he had felt when he had received the ten dollars for the first
load of wheat he had hauled to Fort Scott. Now, with a check for
sixteen thousand--SIXTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS!--in his hand, he
stood dumbly, curiously unmoved.

Slowly, the first bitter months on this land, little Benny's
death from lack of nourishment, his father's desperate efforts to