Major Carey came forward across the walk with all the dignity that was commensurate with his indignation.
“Come into the bank. We want to talk to you,” he ordered with the authoritative tone of a parent.
“Are you ready to make a settlement for the rent of the corn land?”
A couple of bystanders were within earshot and the two bankers looked at each other in alarm.
“When I enter your office again, Major Carey, I’ll be ready to settle with you. I hope you’ll be ready to settle with me.”
And jumping on fat Betty’s back Morey loped down the dusty street toward Aspley place two miles away.
At home he found a note from Lieutenant Purcell with the returned fishing rod. The note said:
“My dear young friend:
“I had hoped to bring the rod in person and to have the pleasure of meeting you and your mother. I cannot thank you too much for the kind invitation you gave me and am most grateful for the use of your rod. I am forced today to proceed at once to Washington in the line of my present duty and for some weeks shall be stationed at Fort Meyer. Possibly, on my return, after a month or so, we may meet again.