The banker was in his private office, busy with his papers. Lyman heard him say to the negro who took in his name: "Mr. Lyman! I don't know why he should want to see me. But tell him to come in."
As Lyman entered the banker looked up and said: "Well, sir."
Lyman sat down and crossed his legs. The banker looked at his feet, then at his head.
"Mr. McElwin," said Lyman, "we have not met before, though I, of course, have seen you often, but——"
"Well, sir, go on."
"Yes, that's what I am doing. I say that we have not met, but I board at the house of a relative of yours, and I therefore feel that I know you."
"Board with a relative of mine?" the banker gasped.
"Yes, with Jasper Staggs, and I want to tell you that he is about as kind hearted an old fellow as I ever met, quaint and accommodating. He is a cousin of yours, I believe."
"Well,—er, yes. But state your business, if you please. I am very busy."
"I presume so, sir, but I am afraid that my business may not strike you in a very favorable way. I want to borrow one hundred dollars."