“Hal,” said the old fellow, “I’m through with this game. I’m goin’ to take what’s left—ef so be there is anything left—and go back out west where I belong. This here stock-brokin’ ain’t for me. The trouble with it is that it’s so full of crooks you don’t know who to trust. You can’t put no dependence in what these fellows tell you. They’ll hand you what seems to be a straight line of goods and then turn right around and double cross you. “Now, I ain’t been used to doin’ business that way. Before I came here I never traded with none but square guys. For instance, now, you take it when I was runnin’ that bar in Denver. A fellow that I knowed would drop in to see me and show me some jewelry or silverware or somethin’ and ask me what I’d give him for it. I’d ask him where he got it and he’d say to me: ‘I lifted it to-night at Jones, the Banker’s house.’ ‘All right,’ I’d say, ‘I’ll give you so much for it.’ He’d say that suited him and I’d hand him the money and he’d beat it out of town. Then, next mornin’, sure enough there’d be a piece in the paper sayin’ the residence of Mr. Jones the banker had been robbed the night before, and I’d know I’d been doin’ business with a square guy.” § 134 By Way of Compromise Up in Minnesota a railroad train killed a cow belonging to a Scandinavian homesteader. The tragedy having been reported at headquarters a claim-agent was sent to the spot to make a settlement of damages. Now, the claim-agent was a plausible and persuasive person, else he would not have been a claim-agent. Having found the Scandinavian and introduced himself by his official title, he proceeded to make out as strong a case in rebuttal as was possible under the circumstances, with the hope of course, of inducing the injured party to accept a moderate sum. “Mr. Swanson,” he said with a winning smile, “the company wants to be absolutely fair with you in this matter. We deeply regret that your cow should have met her death on our tracks. But, on the other hand, Mr. Swanson, from our side there are certain things to be considered: In the first place, that cow had no business straying on our right-of-way and you, as her owner, should not have permitted her to do so. Moreover, it is possible that her presence there might have caused a derailment of the locomotive which struck her and a serious wreck, perhaps involving loss of human life. Now, such being the case, and it being conceded that the cow was, in effect, a trespasser on our property, what do you think, as man to man, would be a fair basis of settlement as between you and the railroad company?” For a space Mr. Swanson pondered on the argument. Then, speaking slowly and weighing his words, he delivered himself of an ultimatum: “I bane poor Swede farmer,” he said. “I shall give you two dollars.” § 135 The Lady Made Good at Last