ntroduced the subject in a casual way.

"It's my opinion," said Ben Barton, "that Mr. Irving is our richest
man."

"What makes you think so, Ben?" asked the landlord.

"The way he lives partly. He's got everything that money can buy.
Besides, I heard his boy say that his father's watch cost him five
hundred dollars. Now, it stands to reason that a man don't wear a watch
like that unless he's got the money to back it."

"There's something in that," the landlord admitted.

The stranger seemed interested.

"Does this Irving stay down here himself?" he asked.

"No, he only comes down Saturday to stay over Sunday."

"Does he have much silver in the house?"

"I don't know. Why?" inquired Ben Barton, turning a surprised look upon
the stranger.

"Because a real, tiptop rich man generally has plenty of plate,"
answered the man after a pause.

"I guess he doesn't keep it down here," said Barton. "It's likely he's
got plenty in the city."

The stranger shrugged his shoulders.

"Does his wife wear diamonds?" he asked.

"Not down here. There wouldn't be any occasion."

"Does he get his groceries here or in the city?"

"He sends them down here by express."

The stranger seemed to lose all interest in the Irving family.

Two or three summer residents were mentioned who were supposed to be
rich, but it did not appear that any of them kept valuables at their
summer homes.

John Trafton had not taken any part in the conversation hitherto, and if
he had been prudent he would have continued to remain silent, but a man
excited by drink is not likely to be discreet.

He broke silence when there came a lull in the discussion.

"There's one man you haven't mentioned," he said, "who keeps more money
on hand than Mr. Irving or any one else you have spoken of."

"A man in the village here?" asked the landlord.

"He means you, Mr. Jones," said Ben Barton jocosely. "Ain't we all of us
bringing you money every day? You ought to have a pile by this time."

"So I might if all that were owing me would pay up," retorted the
landlord.

As Ben was one of his debtors, this was felt to be a fair hit, and there
was a laugh at his expense.

"P'r'aps Trafton means himself," suggested Ben by way of diversion.

"I wish I did," said the fisherman. "Well, I may be rich some time;
stranger things have happened."

"I can't think of any stranger thing than that," said Ben.

And the laugh now was at Trafton's expense, but he didn't