"Suits me."
For the next twenty miles the two fish financiers dived into the details of their commercial venture, and when the train slowed for the bridge leading across the Willamette to Union Station in Portland their plans were completed.
At the street gates of Union Station a policeman directed the Wildcat to the railroad offices. He lost the trail and wandered around for half an hour, but finally, with the assistance of a hundred questions, he made port.
An elevator boy directed him to the treasurer's offices, wherein presently he received a slip of blue paper in the lower right hand corner of which was the treasurer's signature.
"Cap'n, suh, what's dat?"
"That's a check for a thousand dollars."
"Dis papah?"
The Wildcat looked sideways at the check. "Whah at does I git de hard jinglin' money?"
"Any bank. Sign your name on the back of that check and any bank will cash it."
"Cap'n, suh, I ain't nevah learned to write. Kin you all help me wid dis papah?"