"You can help, but--" After his hesitation Britt plunged on. "I wrote
to that broker that I was feeling a little under the weather and was
postponing my trip to the city, and now that fool of a Barnes writes
back that he's starting right behind his letter to come up here to
arrange about taking over the specie and closing the deal, because the
market is just right to act. And the through train, the one he'll be
sure to take, hits Levant about two o'clock to-morrow morning. He asks
me to send somebody down to meet him. That's all one of those taxicab
patronizers knows about traveling conditions in the country. Frank,
unless you'll volunteer to go I'll have to go myself. I don't want that
man talking all the way up here with old Files's gabby hostler, or with
anybody else I send from the village."

Vaniman, even though he tried to make Britt's reasons for the request
seem convincing, could not help feeling that the financier's natural
secretiveness in matters of personal business was stretched somewhat in
this instance. But he gulped back any hesitation and offered to go on
the errand.

"Frank, when I was having my run of foolishness I was sorry that you
are young. Now I'm mighty glad of it," declared Britt. "I can take your
place in yonder on the cot for the night--and I'm going to do it. But
I'll be frank enough to say that I'd rather you'd ride to Levant and
back in a sleigh to-night than do it myself. Go rout up Files's hostler,
borrow his fur coat, and bundle up warm. It's good slipping along the
road, and the trip may have a little pep for you, after all."

And, putting away his momentary doubts, Frank reflected on the matter
and was honestly glad to vary the monotony of his close confinement to
the bank.

So he went and roused Files's hostler, bundled himself in the coat and
the sleigh robes, and made a really joyous experience out of the trip
to Levant, under the stars and over the snow that was crisped by the
night's chill.

He waited beside the station platform, standing up in the sleigh and
peering eagerly after the train stopped. He called the name, "Mr.
Barnes," until the few sleepy, slouching, countrified passengers who
alighted had passed on their way.

It was perfectly apparent that Broker Barnes was not present to answer
roll call.

And after waiting, in whimsical delay, to make sure that Mr. Barnes had
not come footing it behind the train, Frank whipped up and drove back
to Egypt. He felt no