Dad, you're talking silly!" The old man weakened.

He feebly trailed his axe between his legs to a stump and sat down, wiping his forehead with his sleeve, and imparting to it the appearance of a slate with a difficult sum partly rubbed out.
He looked despairingly at Lance.

"In course," he said, with a deep sigh, "you naturally ain't got any money.

In course you left your pocketbook, containing fifty dollars, under a stone, and can't find it.
In course," he continued, as he observed Lance put his hand to his pocket, "you've only got a blank check on Wells, Fargo & Co.

for a hundred dollars, and you'd like me to give you the difference ?" Amused as Lance evidently was at this, his absolute admiration for Flip absorbed everything else.