Next morning you would have thought Mark had forgotten all about old-man Fugle and his two hunderd and seventy-two dollars. He never mentioned it, but just took his reports of what we had in stock and went out.

“Where you goin’?” says I.

“Sell some s-s-stuff,” says he.

“How?” says I.

“Telephone,” says he. “No time to waste. While I’m gone you see if the railroad kin set a car in on our sidin’ right away. I want to ship a c-car to-day.”

“Who to?” says I.

“How should I know?” says he, “I got to sell it yet.”

That was hustling for you, wasn’t it? Here he was planning to get a car and have it loaded and ship it when he didn’t have a thing sold and didn’t know whether he could sell a thing. But he was always a fellow to take a chance when there was a fair show of its amounting to something. I scooted over, and the man in the freight-shed told me he could set in a car before noon. Then I hustled over to the telephone office to meet Mark. He was just getting the man that owned the big mill in Bostwick on the wire.

“Hello!” says he. “Hello! This is Mark Tidd, of Wicksville. I want to speak to the b-b-boss.” He waited a minute, listening. “No, not him,” he says. “The man that owns it. Mr. Rushmore.” In another minute he spoke again. “Hello! Mr. Rushmore? Mornin’, Mr. Rushmore! This here is Mark Tidd, of Wicksville. Remember me?”

I guess Mr. Rushmore remembered him, because Mark went right along talking.

“I got them p-p-prices figgered out. We been manufacturin’ r-right along, and we kin ship a car-load to-day. Eh? What’s that?... Oh, here’s the list!” He read off the list of things we could ship and how many of them, and then he give out the prices. “Yes,” says he, in a couple of seconds, “it’s some b-boost in price, but it’s the b-best we kin do. We couldn’t sell for a cent l-less and keep in b-business.” Another little wait. “All right. T-thank you, sir. We’ll ship to-day.... How about a c-c-contract? At those prices.”

Mr. Rushmore did some talking, and then Mark says:

“Much obleeged, sir. How about dowels? What’s the market price of dowels? I calc’late we can furnish them at the market.”

Mr. Rushmore talked some more.

“All right, sir. The machinery is b-bein’ set. We can ship a good l-lot in the next car.... Good-by.” He hung up the receiver and turned to me with a grin. “There,” says he, “we’ve sold our car-load, and we g-g-got a contract with him for all the chair stock we kin make. He’ll furnish the turnin’ knives and patterns. And he’ll t-t-take as many dowels as we kin cut.”

“Fine,” says I, “but what about old-man Fugle?”

“Got to raise money for him somehow,” says he. “F-first we got to r-r-raise that money. I wisht it was done so’s I could give some attention to Jason Barnes. I want to give him about t-two hunderd and seventy-two d-d-dollars’ worth of attention. He’s got to be showed that it hain’t a p-p-payin’ p-proposition to meddle with other folks’s business.”

“You bet,” says I. “But how you goin’ to raise the money?”

“B-borrow it, if I kin.”

“Who of?”

“The b-bank.”

“Huh!” says I.

“Other b-business men borrow money of the b-bank,” says he, “so I don’t see why I can’t do it, too.”

“Because they won’t let you,” says I.

“Never t-tell till you try,” says he. “Come on.”

So we went to the bank, and Mark asked to see Mr. Holmes, who was the president. We went into his office, and Mr. Holmes looked up and smiled and says:

“What can I do for you gentlemen this morning?”

“We want to b-borrow some m-money, Mr. Holmes,” says Mark.

Mr. Holmes shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. “That enough?” says he. “What security?”

“This,” says Mark, serious as an owl, “is b-business. We wasn’t calc’latin’ to borrow nothin’ to buy candy. Here’s how it is: You know we’re r-runnin’ Silas Doolittle Bugg’s mill for him, and we’re m-makin’ a go of it. Yes, sir. We’re gittin’ it down to a b-business basis, and we calc’late to make money. If ’twasn’t for Silas Doolittle, we wouldn’t have to b-borrow, but he forgits about seven times as much as he remembers, and one of the things he forgot was that he owed old-man Fugle two hunderd and seventy-two dollars and sixty-one cents.” Then he went on and explained to Mr. Holmes how Mr. Wiggamore was tryin’ to get our dam away from us, and what he had put Jason Barnes up to do, and all that. “Old-man Fugle has give us till Tuesday. If we d-d-don’t p-pay up then, he’ll sell to Jason,” says Mark.

“So that’s how it is,” says Mr. Holmes, and he looked sober and business-like. “You admit you are on the verge of bankruptcy, and come to borrow a large sum of money. Do you think it would be right for me to lend it to you? What if you failed to pay it back?”

“We won’t,” says Mark. “I know we kin m-m-make that mill pay, but if we fall down on it, I’ll p-pay it myself. Yes, sir. I’ll guarantee you git your money.”

“And I believe you would keep your word,” says Mr. Holmes. “I know something about you, young man, and I’d like to help you out, but, really, I don’t see how I can. You’re not of age, you know, and the law won’t let you assume a debt.”

“L-look here,” says Mark, “lemme tell you how we’re gettin’ along. This mornin’ I got a contract for all we can manufacture, and another contract for dowels that we’re goin’ to m-make. We got the machinery. Here’s the p-prices Silas Doolittle was sellin’ for, and here’s the prices I’ve f-f-figgered out was right, and we’re goin’ to git them on the new c-c-contract. Jest l-look ’em over.”

Mr. Holmes looked them over and got sort of interested and asked a lot of questions. Then he says: “This is a good job you’ve done, young man. Nobody could have done better. I wish I could find some way to help you—but I don’t see how I can do it.”

“We’re shippin’ a car-load of stuff to-day—to Mr. Rushmore, of Bostwick. It’ll come to about six hunderd dollars. But he won’t pay for thirty days. We got to have the m-money before that. Now why can’t we give you the invoice and b-bill of lading as security, and pay interest to you till Mr. Rushmore sends his check? Then you would have s-s-security and there wouldn’t be any chance of your losin’. You kin call Mr. Rushmore on the ’phone and find out if what I say is all right.”

“By Jove!” says Mr. Holmes, “I think I could do that! I won’t bother to call Rushmore. Your word is good here, Mark Tidd. You’ve made a reputation for keeping your word and for telling the truth, and it’s worth money to you. S............