"What are you driving at, Dan Woods?" demanded Wolverton, severely. "I hope you're not going to say that you are not ready to pay your rent?"
"I haven't got the whole of it, sir; and that's a fact."
"You haven't got the whole of it? How much have you got?"
"I can pay you six dollars, Mr. Wolverton."
"Six dollars out of ten! Why, this is positively shameful! I wonder you are not ashamed to tell me."
"There is no shame about it that I can see," answered Dan, plucking up his spirit. "I didn't fall sick on purpose; and when I was sick I couldn't work."
"You ought to have one month's rent laid by, so that whatever happens you could pay it on time."
"That's easy to say, Mr. Wolverton, but it takes every cent of my earnings to pay my monthly expenses. There's little chance to save."
"Any one can save who chooses," retorted Wolverton, sharply.
"But how can I get it by to-morrow night?" asked Dan in dismay.
"That's your lookout, not mine. All I have to say is, unless it is paid to me to-morrow night you must move the next day."
With these words Wolverton went off. Dan Woods, in his trouble, went to Bob Burton the next day, and Bob readily lent him the money he needed.
"Thank you!" said Dan, gratefully; "I won't forget this favor."
"Don't make too much of it, Dan; it's a trifle."
"It's no trifle to me. But for you my family would be turned out of house and home to-morrow. The time may come when I can do you a service."
The time came sooner than either anticipated.
Wolverton was somewhat puzzled when on his next call Dan Woods paid the balance due on his rent.
"So you raised the money after all?" he said. "I thought you could if you made an effort."
"It isn't any secret, Mr. Wolverton. I borrowed it of a neighbor who has always been kind to me--Bob Burton."
"I didn't know he had money to lend," he said.
"He always has money for a poor man who needs it."
"All right! I shall know where to go when I need money," responded Wolverton, with a grin.
"It suits me well enough to have the boy throw away his money," Wolverton said to himself. "It will only draw nearer the time when he will have to sue me for a favor."
That day Wolverton read in a St. Louis paper that wheat was steadily rising, and had already reached two dollars and six cents per bushel.