on a Letter of Discredit.' That will have all the gossips of Kewanee buzzing, mother."
The meal drew to a close happily in contrast to its beginning. Mrs. Sherman and her daughter rose to pass out into the reception room. Sherman and Kimball lingered.
"Ah-h, Willy"
"Mr. Sherman"
Both began in unison, each somewhat furtive and shamefaced.
"Have you any money?" The queries were voiced as one. For an instant confusion; then the older man looked up into the younger's face—a bit flushed it was—and guffawed.
"Not a postage stamp, Willy! I guess we're both beggars, and if mother and Kitty didn't have five trunks between them this Swiss hold-up man who says he's proprietor of this way-station hotel wouldn't trust us for a fried egg"
"Same here," admitted Kimball. "I'm badly bent."
"They can't keep us down—us Americans!" Sherman cheered, taking the youth's arm and piloting him out into the reception room. "We'll find a way out if we have to cable for a warship to come and get us."
