"But how do you know I will bring it back?" said Teague. "I am a stranger to you." "Oh, your friend is good surety for you," replied the pawnbroker. "He is one of my few customers who have redeemed their pledges." A thundering blast struck the house. The wind beat at the windows as though it meant to smash them. The sound of the tempest persuaded Teague to accept the pawnbroker's offer. Without another word he caught the edge of either sleeve with his fingers and put his arms out behind, while Rumble put the overcoat on him. His arms, however, never found the ends of its capacious sleeves. It was almost large enough for a man of twice Teague's size. Dixon had a fit of laughter at his friend's expense, and even the pawnbroker could not forbear a smile. "It is rather large for you, isn't it?" said Rumble. "Let us try another." And then he added: "Why, your own fits you best, of course." Then seizing Teague's ulster, which still lay on his counter, he threw it over its owner's shoulders, and bade the two men a hearty good-night as they went forth into the storm. When he had succeeded in closing the door in the face of the tempest, he turned the key in the lock, and then, with a shiver, returned to the fire. As he stood before the stove he smiled and seemed to be chuckling over the thought that he had made Teague wear his own coat. His face wore a happy look. He had a clear conscience. He knew that he was a philanthropist in a small way, and had helped many a poor soul when the light of hope was burning dimly. But he took no credit to himself for this. The opportunity of doing a little good had come in his way, and he had not let it pass; that was all. Besides, as he often said, he expected to make money in his business. He simply conducted it on more liberal principles than most pawnbrokers. When he went into it he was told that a large proportion of pawnbrokers' customers never redeemed their pledges, and that by advancing on goods pawned only a small percentage of their value, a great deal of money was made in the sale of unredeemed articles. He thought, therefore, that it was only just to loan on whatever was brought to him nearly as much money as he deemed it would bring at auction. To do anything less would, in his opinion, have been to cheat his customers. Besides, if he loaned more money on goods, in proportion to their value, than other pawnbrokers, his return in interest was also greater when the goods were redeemed. This was the peculiar principle on which he did business, and it is needless to say that he did a very large business, much to the disgust of all other pawnbrokers having shops in his neighborhood.