“Thanks, but I—er—I don't smoke much.”
“Just one mild cigar. That won't hurt you, I'm sure. I love to meet old friends,” continued Henry Davis.
In the end the old farmer was persuaded to walk into the smoking car and here the slick-looking individual found a corner seat where they would be undisturbed.
“I expect to spend a week or more in Philadelphia, Mr. Bean,” said the stranger; “if I can be of service to you during that time, command me.”
“Well, perhaps ye can be of service to me. Do ye know many folks in the city?”
“Oh, yes, a great many. Some are business friends and some are folks in high society.”
“I don't care for no high society. But I've got to collect six hundred dollars an' I want somebody to identify me.”
“Oh, I can do that easily, Mr. Bean.”
“Kin ye?” The farmer grew interested at once. “If ye kin I'll be much obliged to ye.”
“Where must you be identified?”