But I thought you might want a receipt." "I am not particular about that.

Mr.Winters has trusted me for about six months, and I think I can afford to trust him for as many days.

I'll call and get the receipt when I come back." As Mr.Brown said this, he dismounted, and Pierre, who, ever since his employer's departure, had seemed to have nothing to do but to loiter about the house, and who had stood at the opposite side of the court, listening to every word of the conversation, came up to hold his horse.
The visitor shouldered his saddle-bags, and followed Frank into a room which went by the name of "the office," where Mr.Winters transacted all his business.

The room was furnished with a high desk, a three-legged stool, and a small safe, which, like those in banks, was set into the wall, so that nothing but the door could be seen.
"That is just the place for it," said Mr.Brown; "it will be secure there." "But I haven't got the key," replied Frank; "uncle always carries it in his pocket." "Well, I don't suppose there would be any danger if you were to leave the money on the porch.

Of course, your hired people can be depended on, or your uncle wouldn't keep them." Frank thought there was at least one person on the rancho who could not be trusted to any great extent; but, of course, he said nothing about it.