“It ain’t many book agents would be so honest.”
“I think book agents are about as honest as other folks.”
“Oh, yes, so do I—but I mean most men wouldn’t be so honest when they had such a good chance to pocket fourteen hundred dollars. We want to reward you, Mr. Hardy.”
“I told you before, I wasn’t looking for a reward.”
“I know that, but my wife and I would feel better if you’d accept what we want to give you. Here it is.”
As Samuel Windham spoke he brought forth a large wallet, and drew out one of the hundred-dollar bills.
“What, do you want me to accept a hundred dollars!” cried Frank.
“That’s it. Take it with our best wishes.”
“It’s altogether too much, Mr. Windham.”
“No, it ain’t. We want you to take it. My wife says to me, ‘Don’t you dare to bring it back, Samuel. You just tell him he’s got to take it from me,’ so there you are.”