“That's a fact,” said Wilson, in a tone that betrayed self-gratification. “Now we must all pull together for the railroad.” He rose and turned to Miller. “Will you come with me to record the paper?”
“Certainly,” said Miller, and they both left together.
The Bishop family were left alone, and the strain being lifted, they found themselves almost wholly exhausted.
“Is it all over?” gasped the old woman, standing up and grasping her son's arm.
“We've got his money,” Alan told her, with a glad smile, “and a fair chance for more.”
The pink check was fluttering in old Bishop's hand. Already the old self-willed look that brooked no interference with his personal affairs was returning to his wrinkled face.
“I 'll go over to Craig's bank an' deposit it,” he said to Alan. “It 'll take a day or two to collect it, but he'd let me check on it right now fer any reasonable amount.”
“I believe I'd ask him not to mention the deposit,” suggested Alan.
“Huh! I reckon I've got sense enough to do that.”
“I thought you intended to pay off the mortgage on our farm the fust thing,” ventured Mrs. Bishop.