"Too bad," commiserated the farmer. "Lost my own brother last year. Bill was a hustling chap. Missed him dreadfully last plowing season."
"My brother lives at Jayville," explained the man, naming a station two stops ahead.
"Jayville, eh?" repeated the farmer. "Been there. Went to the bank there once to sell a mortgage."
"Indeed. An uncle of mine is an official of the bank."
"Is that so, now?" said the farmer. "There's the mayor, there, too; sort of a distant relative of my first wife. Don't know him, do you?"
Frank interestedly watched the stranger deftly draw from a side pocket a book. It seemed to be some kind of a country directory. Without attracting the attention of his companion, the stranger glanced over its pages, meantime suspending conversation by pretending to have a violent fit of coughing.
"The mayor," he said finally. "You mean Mr. David Norris?"
"That's him!" exclaimed the farmer.
"Oh, yes, I know him. He is a cousin of mine."
"Is that so? Shake!" said the farmer. "Why, we're quite acquainted, hain't we? Almost relatives, hey?"