the three corner lots at five thousand
each. The city grew so rapidly in that direction that they were
surrounded by brick stores almost before you would know it. I have
also sold for four thousand dollars the ten acres of out-laying
sage bush, which you once foolishly tried to give away. Mr.
Simpson, of Boston, bought the tract. He is very shrewd, no doubt,
but he hasn't been in the west long. Still, I think if he holds it
for about a thousand years, he may come out all right.

I worked him with the projected-horse-car-line gag.

Inform me of the address of your New York attorneys, and I will
send on the papers. Pray do not neglect to write me concerning the
draft sent on 25th June.

In conclusion, I might say that if you have any eastern friends who
are after good western investments inform them of the glorious
future of Tin Can. We now have three railroads, a bank, an electric
light plant, a projected horse-car line, and an art society. Also,
a saw manufactory, a patent car-wheel mill, and a Methodist Church.
Tin Can is marching forward to take her proud stand as the
metropolis of the west. The rose-hued future holds no glories to
which Tin Can does not--

Tom stopped abruptly. "I guess the important part of the letter came
first," he said.

"Yes," cried the old man, "I've heard enough. It is just as I thought.
George has robbed his dad."

The old man's frail body quivered with grief. Two tears trickled slowly
down the furrows of his face.

"Come, come, now," said Tom, patting him tenderly on the back. "Brace
up, old feller. What you want to do is to get a lawyer and go put the
screws on George."

"Is it really?" asked the old man, eagerly.

"Certainly, it is," said Tom.

"All right," cried the old man, with enthusiasm. "Tell me where to get
one." He slid down from the railing and prepared to start off.

Tom reflected. "Well," he said, finally, "I might do for one myself."

"What," shouted the old man in a voice of admiration, "are you a lawyer
as well as a reader?"

"Well," said Tom again, "I might appear to advantage as one. All you
need is a big front," he added, slowly. He was a profane young man.

The old man seized him by the arm. "Come on, then," he cried, "and we'll
go put the screws on George."

Tom permitted himself to be dragged by the weak arms of his companion
around a corner and along a side