Will Corliss watched his brother drive away. When the team had disappeared up the road he walked down the street to the sheriff's office. The sheriff greeted him cordially.
"I came for that money, Jim."
"Sure! Here you are," and the sheriff handed him a five-dollar gold-piece.
"Quit kidding and come across," said Corliss, ignoring the significance of the allowance.
"Can't, Will. John said to give you five any time you wanted it, but only five a day."
"He did, eh? John's getting mighty close in his old age, ain't he?"
"Mebby. I don't know."
"How much did he leave for me?"
"Five a day, as I said."
"Oh, you go to hell!"