"Yes, the bank has failed. I'm sorry, Mr. Jimson, but I can't pay you the interest," went on Mr. Crosby. "I intended going to Rossmore to-day to get it for you. Now I can't."
"I don't know about that," replied the holder of the mortgage on the Crosby farm. "I don't see what the failure of the bank has to do with you not paying me my interest."
"Why, I can't pay it if there isn't any money in the bank."
"I have nothing to do with that. I loaned you a certain sum on this farm. You signed a paper agreeing to pay me my interest at a certain time. That time has come and I want my money."
"But I can't pay you if the bank has failed."
"I tell you that has nothing to do with me!" exclaimed Mr. Jimson angrily. "I want my money—that's all. How am I to know you had the interest in the bank?"
"But I tell you I did!"
"Humph! A man's word isn't good for much nowadays. I want my interest, and I intend to have it."
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Jimson," said Mr. Crosby in a strained voice, "but I haven't got it."
"Then you'll have to get it. Take it from some other bank."