n't the
right man for the position you occupy. It's your business to know these
things. Now, I'm not asking you for any big loan. All I want is expense
money for that trip. If you'll advance me seventy-five or a hundred
dollars on my note, with this camera as security, I'll thank you and
romp down to El Paso and get that endorsement before the convention
adjourns till next year."

Mr. White looked at the camera strangely, as though he half expected it
to explode. "I should have to take it up with the directors--"

"Directors! Hell, man, that train's due in an hour! What _are_ you
around here--a man in authority, or just a dummy made up to look like
one? Do you mean to tell me you're afraid to stake me to enough money to
make El Paso and return? What, for the Lord's sake, do I look like,
anyway,--a crook?"

Mr. White's head was more than six feet in the air when he stood up, and
Luck Lindsay in his high-heeled boots lacked a good six inches of that
altitude; but for all that, Luck Lindsay was a bigger man than Mr.
White. He dominated the cashier; he made the cashier conscious of his
dyspepsia and his thin hair and his flabby muscles and his lack of
enthusiasm with life.

"The directors have to pass on all bank loans," he explained
apologetically, "but I can lend you the money out of my personal account.
If you will excuse me, I'll get the money before my assistant closes the
vault. And shall I put these inside for you?" He rose and started for the
inner door with a deprecating smile.

"Aren't you going to take a note?" Luck studied the man with
sharpened glance.

"My check will be a sufficient record of the transaction, I think." And
Mr. White, with two or three words scribbled at the bottom, proceeded to
make the check a record. "I am glad to be able to stake you, Mr. Lindsay,
and I hope your trip will be successful."

He got another Luck Lindsay smile for that, and the apology he had coming
to him. And then in a very few minutes Luck hurried out and back to the
little house on the edge of town.

"Where's my bag? So long, boys; I'm going to drift. I'll change clothes
on the train--haven't got time now. Here's five dollars, Andy, for the
stable bill and so on. Bill, you're the only one of the bunch that
shirked, so you can carry this box of reels to the depot for me. _Adios_,
boys, I'm sure going to romp all over that Convention, believe me, if
they don't swear _The Phantom Herd's_ a winner from the first scene