"But I haven't the money and that's all there is about it. I will go in as soon as I can."
"Well, ye can borrow it, can't you?"
"Borrow. What security can I give?"
"Aint ye'r Christianity security enough?"
Dick laughed at him. "Is that the way men do business in Boyd
City?"
"Well, ye kin laugh if you want to, but that's 'bout th' best security a feller can have in th' long run. Anyhow, it's good 'nough fer me. I'll lend you a hundred fer a year. To-be-sure," he added hastily, as he saw Dick's face, "You'll have to pay me th' same interest I can git from the other fellers. I've got th' money to loan, and its all th' same to me whether I loan it to you or some other man."
"Suppose I die, then what?" asked Dick.
"Well, if Christ goes on yer note I reckon it'll be good sometime," muttered Uncle Bobbie, half to himself, as he took a check-book from his pocket and filled it out. "I'll fix up th' papers this afternoon. Don't forget t' stop fer me."
When Dick and Uncle Bobbie reached the rooms of the Commercial Club that evening, they found them filled with a large company of interested citizens, and when the opportunity was given, over two hundred enrolled as members of the Association.
Mr. Lindsley, the banker, was elected president, with Mr. Wallace, a merchant, for vice president. Then, with great enthusiasm, the unanimous ballot of the Association was cast for Mr. Richard Falkner as secretary, while to Dick's great delight, Uncle Bobbie was given the place of treasurer.