“Yes, sir, I did, and that’s a fact,” beamed Collins. “You’ve been mighty accommodating to me, sir, and I’m not forgetting it.” He glanced warily toward the windows and lowered his voice. “If you could make me the loan of two-bits till pay-day, Mr. Crail, I’d be extremely obliged to you, sir, I would so.”
“What is it this time?” asked Monty gravely. “No more of the children sick, I hope?”
“No, sir; it ain’t that. It’s——”
“The one that had the whooping-cough is well again, is she? And the one that had appendicitis? And the one that had bubonic plague?”
“Didn’t any of them have that last thing, Mr. Crail. I reckon that’s all they ain’t had, too.” Collins chuckled. “No, sir; it ain’t the children, sir. It’s my lodge dues, Mr. Crail. I just got to pay them tonight or I loses my standing. They’s awfully strict about dues, Mr. Crail.”
“I see. All right. Here you are. That makes—how much, Collins?”
“Four dollars and a quarter, sir. Yes, sir, exactly four and a quarter. Thank you kindly, Mr. Crail. Just you speak to me about it when pay-day comes, case I forgets it.”
“Sure, but when is pay-day, Collins? Fourth of July?”
“No, sir, pay-day’s the first of every month.”
“Oh. Well, you sort of forgot me last time, didn’t you?”