Sarah took the check to the light. She gasped as she read the four figures. There was awe in her voice as she pronounced the words aloud:
"Five-thousand dollars!"
Then, after a moment, she questioned seriously:
"Ichabod, are ye goin' to build the addition on the hotel besides?"
The old fisherman nodded emphatically.
"That," he stoutly declared, "was a gentleman's promise!"
Sarah capitulated.
"Ichabod Jones, I ought to call you a triflin' rascal for starting in to scare me like you've done. Anyhow, I jest can't make it earlier than eleven-thirty. Will that do?"
The fisherman's reply was to take Sarah in his arms. Roy and Van Dusen in the hotel lobby hailed the smack that followed as a signal of the wooer's success.