Alonzo's face lighted up with a sudden idea. But he did not quite like to express it.
"I wouldn't like to trouble you, Mr. Nugent," he said.
"Then there is something. Let me know what it is?"
"Well, the fact is, squire, I came to Portville to ask my sister—that's Mrs. Lane—if she would lend me two hundred dollars to rebuild my shop that was badly injured by fire last week, but she says she can't do it."
"How much money do you require, Mr. Crane?"
"I think I could manage on two hundred dollars."
"What is your given name?" asked Mr. Nugent, drawing a check-book from a desk on the table.
"Alonzo Crane is what people call me in our village."
John Nugent took the pen and filled out a check, which he passed over to the blacksmith.
"Three hundred dollars!" ejaculated Alonzo in amazement.