"Oh, yes!" exclaimed the cashier. "The old man out there on the Watson homestead! Well, it seems like the old fellow stands a good chance of being sold out." He then explained to Baptiste regarding the note and the circumstances.
"That don't look just right to me," muttered Baptiste when he had heard the circumstances.
"Well, now, it isn't right. But what can be done?"
"Can't you loan the old man the money?"
"I could; but I don't like letting credit to strangers and renters. If he could get a good man on his note I'd fix it out for him, since we've just received quite a sum for deposit."
"Well, if I should go it," said Baptiste suggestively. The other looked quickly up.
"Why, you! Gee, I'd take care of him for ten times the amount if you'd put your 'John Henry' on the note."
"Well, I'll be in town early in the morning," said Baptiste, turning to drive away.
"All right, Jean. Sure! I'll look for you."
The day was bright and lovely for driving, and Baptiste drove to his homestead, and from there to the Reynolds' where he had dinner and visited late. The next morning he went to the town, and when Jack Stewart, exhausted by the strain of worry under which he was laboring, came into town, having decided to try and sell the mare and one of the other horses, thereby leaving him only one with which to complete the cultivating of his corn and the reaping of his crops, he was called into the bank.