ency in his breast. Everything was arranged satisfactorily in
the space beneath Mr. Strumley's water-tousled hair, wherein sat the
goddess of human happiness--reason.

Mr. Strumley, after a hurried stop-over at the office of his astounded
charge d'affaires, reached the Commercial Bank before the messenger
boys. While waiting in the balm of the spring morning for the doors to
open he circumnavigated the block nine times--he counted them. Coming
in on the last tack he sighted the portly form of the banker careening
with dignified speed around the corner. Another instant he had crossed
the mat and disappeared into his financial harbor. Mr. Strumley steered
rapidly in his wake.

Again he stood in the presence of Bettina's father. This time, however,
he was calm. In fact, the atmosphere about the two men was heavily
charged with the essence of good fellowship. Mr. Stokes held out his
hand cordially. The younger man pressed its broad palm with almost
filial veneration. He noted, too, with a slight touch of remorse, that
the banker's countenance was harassed. Evidently his heart still ached
for the lost Arkansas timber. Mr. Strumley smiled philanthropically.

He had something to say to Mr. Stokes, and began to say it with the easy
enunciation of one who rests confident in the sunshine of righteousness.
He spoke evenly, fluently. Of course Mr. Stokes at first might be a
trifle perplexed. But please bear with him, hear him through, then he
himself should be the sole judge.

He, Mr. Strumley, did not care a rap--no, not a single rap, for every
tree that grew in the entire state of Arkansas. What he wanted to do was
to show Mr. Stokes--Bettina's father--that he was worth the while. That
is, he wanted to demonstrate--it was a good word--to demonstrate that he
had brains in his cranium as good as many another variety that boasted a
trade mark of wider popularity. Had he done it? And if what he had done
did not concur with the elements of high finance, he would like Mr.
Stokes--Bettina's father--to tell him what it did concur with. Now,
there was the whole story from its incipiency. And as conclusive proof
that he did not mean to profit by the deal financially, would Mr. Stokes
kindly examine those papers?

Mr. Stokes looked at the documents tossed on the desk before him; and
saw that they were several warranty deeds, conveying to Richard Stokes,
his heirs and assigns forever, all titles and claims of all kinds
whatsoever in cer