a check?"
Jerry asked, as York reached for his check-book.

"Why do you prefer that?" York asked, with business frankness.

"Because I do not care to have the transaction known to any one besides
your company," Jerry replied.

"But suppose I should sublease this land?" York suggested.

"That would be different, of course, even if the lessee was a lunatic.
Otherwise I don't care to have it known to any one that I draw an income
from what is not worth an effort," Jerry declared, quoting Joe Thomson's
words regarding her possessions.

"If I give my word to exclude every one else from knowing of this
transaction it means every one--even my sister Laura." York looked at
Jerry questioningly.

"Even your sister Laura," Jerry repeated, conclusively.

York was too well-bred to ask her why, and, while he voluntarily
refrained from telling his sister many things, she was his counselor in
so many affairs that he wondered not a little at Jerry's request, while
he chafed a little under his promise. He was so accustomed to being
master of himself in all affairs that it surprised him to find how
easily he had put himself where he would rather not have been placed.

Half an hour later Joe Thomson came into the office.

"What can I do for you to-day, Joe?" York inquired.

"Do you control the sections south of mine?" Joe asked. "I want to lease
them, but I shouldn't care to have the owner know anything about it."

"That old blowout! What's your idea, Joe?"

"I want to try an experiment," Joe replied.

York Macpherson had the faculty of reading some men like open books.

"You must have been hanging around eavesdropping this morning. I just
got a three years' lease on Miss Swaim's land at twenty-five cents an
acre, and here you come for it. I took it on a venture, of course,
hoping to sell sand to the new cement-works up the river, sand being
scarce in these parts." There was a twinkle in York's eyes as he said
this. "I can sublease it, of course, and at the same price, but you
know, Joe, that the land is worthless."

"I don't know it," Joe said, stubbornly. "You seem to have been willing
enough to get the lease secured this morning."

York ignored the thrust. "You know I leased that land merely to help
Miss Swaim, but you don't know yet whether or not you can tame your own
share of that infernal old sand-pile that you want to put a mortgage on
your claim to fight," York reminded him.

"I'll take a part of that loan to p