I had to thank old Barlow for doing me one good turn, for, during all the excitement I had completely forgotten to make my payment to the president of the bank, Mr. Blickens. It was the monthly payment of fifty dollars to apply against the mortgage on my farm. Jock had repeatedly told me to be sure not to get behind with that or I might lose my farm. The very morning after the payment was due I had a telephone call from Blickens, asking me to go to see him. I went, and he reminded me I hadn't made my payment. I said I would write out my check there and then, but he said, "I don't think it is at all satisfactory." "You must take up the mortgage at once or I shall foreclose," he added in that acid tone of his. "But, Mr. Blickens, you couldn't do that!" "Couldn't?" he snapped. "You don't know what I could do." He pulled out his watch and said, "It's ten now--you must take up that note by twelve or I shall foreclose." Old Barlow was in the bank as I came out of the president's office, and he evidently noticed I was feeling disturbed, for as I left the bank he followed me and put his arm around my shoulders in such a kindly way that I just told him the whole story. He screwed his mouth a little, a habit he had when thinking quickly. Then "Come back to the bank," he said, shortly. He wrote out a check for cash, drew the money and gave it to me, saying, "Give that to him." We entered Blickens' office together. He looked surprised to see old man Barlow, too. "What do you want?" he snarled. "Nothing," smiled Barlow, "only I just wondered if you couldn't give young Black here a little longer on that note. He's all right. Would you give him a little longer if I endorsed his note?" "Look here, Mr. Barlow," snapped Blickens, "you've interfered once or twice in my business. I told Black that I'd give him till twelve o'clock to take up that mortgage. If he is going around whining after I have helped him, I'll give him no time at all. He must pay the money right here and now--or I'll foreclose at once." "Pay him, Dawson," said Barlow, quietly. "I won't accept a check--it isn't legal tender, and his check wouldn't be any good either." By this time I had pulled out the roll of money, and say, it did me good to see Blickens' eyes. They stuck out of his head so far you could have knocked them off with a stick. He fairly gurgled with disappointment, but there was nothing else to do but take his medicine, which he did none too graciously. I gave Barlow a demand note, with the farm as collateral, to cover the loan he had made me. I felt safer; but it wasn't my fault that I hadn't lost my farm. What a lot of trouble borrowing money gets one into!