"
"Much obliged for your advice about the thoroughbred," said Andover as
he stepped close to Pete. "Is that the pony you used to ride?"
"He sure is. Say, Doc, I got the money to pay for him, but would you
mind writin' out a check. I ain't wise to this bankin' business yet."
"Why--no. I'll do that. I--er--of course--I'm a little short myself.
New car--and this horse for my daughter. But I think I can manage.
You want to borrow a hundred and fifty?"
"Say, Doc, you got me wrong! I got the makin's all right, but I don't
jest sabe rollin' 'em." Pete dug into his coat-pocket and fetched up a
check-book. "Same as you paid for your hoss with."
"This is Stockmen's Security. You have an account there?"
"That's what the president was callin' it. I call it dough. I got the
book." And Pete dug into his pocket again, watching Andover's face as
that astonished individual glanced at the deposit to Pete's credit.
"Well, you're the limit!"--and the doctor whistled. "What will you
spring next?"
"Oh, it's _mine_, all right. A friend was leavin' it to me.
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