“I said my name was Hunter,” said Travis, ingeniously. “I didn’t understand you.”
“But you’ve signed the name of Dick Hunter to this order. How is that?” questioned the troublesome cashier.
Travis saw that he was getting himself into a tight place; but his self-possession did not desert him.
“I thought I must give my brother’s name,” he answered.
“What is your own name?”
“Henry Hunter.”
“Can you bring any one to testify that the statement you are making is correct?”
“Yes, a dozen if you like,” said Travis, boldly. “Give me the book, and I’ll come back this afternoon. I didn’t think there’d be such a fuss about getting out a little money.”
“Wait a moment. Why don’t your brother come himself?”
“Because he’s sick. He’s down with the measles,” said Travis.