"I don't mean anything, Sally," he said; "but I'm worried."
"What worries you?"
"A heavy loss."
"How much?"
"A hundred and fifty dollars."
"How is that?"
"I have lost a receipt, but I can't explain how. A hundred and fifty dollars is a great deal of money, Sally."
"I should say it was. Why can't you tell me about it?"
"Perhaps I will some time."
About two months later, while Bob was superintending the harvesting of the wheat—the staple crop of the Burton ranch—Clip came running up to him in visible excitement.