Harry stepped on board the train without seeing any one whom he knew, and took a seat on the right-hand side. Just in front of him was an elderly farmer, with a face well browned by exposure to the sun and wind. He had a kindly face, and looked sociable. It was not long before he addressed our young hero.
“Going to New York?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you acquainted there?”
“No, sir; not much.”
“Nor I. I was thinking you might be able to direct me to a place where I could get money for some cowpons.”
“Government coupons?” inquired Harry, becoming interested.
“Yes. You see, my wife’s uncle died not long ago, and left Sarah a government bond of a thousand dollars, drawing six per cent interest. There’s thirty dollars due the first of this month, and I told Sarah that I’d go and collect it for her.”
“I’ve got some business of that same kind,” said Harry. “I was told there were brokers’ offices in Wall Street, where I could collect the money without any trouble.”
“I’ll go with you,” said the farmer, in a tone of satisfaction. “If he’ll buy yours, he’ll buy mine.”