"But, Mr. Sloan," said Fred surprised, "why not leave it with your other money? I might lose it."
"I want you to put it in some savings bank in your own name, and, if you need it, to draw out any part of it. I don't want that mean scamp, the landlord, to get a chance to turn you out into the street."
"But I might not be able to pay it back, Mr. Sloan."
"I'll take the risk. I lend it to you without interest for a year, and if you have to use any of it I won't sue you."
"You are very kind! It will make me feel much more easy in mind. I wouldn't mind being turned into the street on my own account, but mother couldn't stand it."
"Just so, Fred. You've got a good mother, and you must look out for her."
"I don't often meet a good friend like you, Mr. Sloan."
"Oh, pshaw! you mustn't make too much of a little thing," said the miner modestly. "I'm only giving you the interest on a hundred dollars."
Fred walked slowly homeward, feeling very cheerful. He hoped he should not need to use any of Mr. Sloan's kind loan, but it gave him a feeling of relief to know that he had a fund to draw from in case of need.
On his way home, in passing a drinking saloon, Fred's attention was drawn to two men who came out, arm in arm, both of whom appeared to be under the influence of liquor. Something in the dress and figure of one looked familiar. Coming closer Fred recognized his country friend, Joshua Bascom.