In a very few conversations he convinced the farmer that there were a hundred ways of making money, all of them quicker than the slow process of farming and the unpleasant process of denying one's self superfluities and growing saved pennies into pounds. “What do you think, John,” said Merton one day to Meadows, “I have got a few hundreds loose. I'm half minded to try and turn them into thousands for my girl's sake. Mr. Clinton makes it clear, don't you think?” “Well, I don't know,” was the reply. “I have no experience in that sort of thing, but it certainly looks well the way he puts it.” In short, Meadows did not discourage his friend from co-operating with Mr. Clinton; for his own part he spoke him fair, and expressed openly a favorable opinion of his talent and his various projects, and always found some excuse or other for not risking a halfpenny with him. CHAPTER XXX. ONE day Mr. Meadows walked into the post-office of Farnborough and said to Jefferies, the postmaster, “A word with you in private, Mr. Jefferies.” “Certainly, Mr. Meadows--come to my back parlor, sir; a fine day, Mr. Meadows, but I think we shall have a shower or two.” “Shouldn't wonder. Do you know this five-pound note?” “Can't say I do.” “Why it has passed through your hands?” “Has it? well a good many of them pass through my hands in the course of the year. I wish a few of 'em would stop on the road.” “This one did. It stuck to your fingers, as the phrase goes.” “I don't know what you mean, sir,” said Jefferies haughtily. “You stole it,” explained Meadows quietly. “Take care,” cried Jefferies in a loud quaver--“Take care what you say! I'll have my action of defamation against you double quick if you dare to say such a thing of me.” “So be it. You will want witnesses. Defamation is no defamation you know till the scandal is published. Call in your lodger.” “Ugh!” “And call your wife!” cried Meadows, raising his voice in turn. “Heaven forbid! Don't speak so loud, for goodness' sake!” “Hold your tongue then and don't waste my time with your gammon,” said Meadows sternly. Then resuming his former manner he went on in the tone of calm explanation. “One or two in this neighborhood lost money coming through the post. I said to myself, 'Jefferies is a man that often talks of his conscience--he will be the thief'--so I baited six traps for you, and you took five. This note came over from Ireland; you remember it now?” “I am ruined! I am ruined!” “You changed it at Evans' the grocer's; you had four sovereigns and silver for it. The other baits were a note and two sovereigns and two half sovereigns. You spared one sovereign, the rest you nailed. They were all marked by Lawyer Crawley. They have been traced from your hand, and lie locked up ready for next assizes. Good-morning, Mr. Jefferies.” Jefferies turned a cold jelly where he sat--and Meadows walked out, primed Crawley, and sent him to stroll in sight of the post-office.