"Glen Palmer." "Do you live near here?" "Yes, sir--in an old abandoned farmhouse, rent free, about a mile north of here." "With your folks?" "No, sir, I have no folks, only an old grandfather. He's past working, and, well, a--a little queer at times, and I have to keep close watch of him. That's what's the trouble." The claim agent took out his note book. "Look here," he spoke, "if Fairbanks will vouch for you, I'll tab off the chickens to you at fifteen dollars, due in thirty days." "O--oh!" gasped the lad, clasping his hands in an ecstacy of hope and happiness. "I'll be sure to pay you-- Why, with what I know I can do with those chickens, I could pay you ten times over inside of a month." "Mr. Fry," said Ralph, studying the boy's face for a moment or two, "I'll go security for my friend here." "Say--excuse me, but say, Mr. Fairbanks, I--I--" The boy broke down, tears chocking his utterance. He could only clasp and cling to Ralph's hand. The latter patted him on the shoulder with the encouraging words: "You go ahead with your chicken farm, Glen, and if it needs more capital come to me." "If you only knew what you've done for me--for me and my old grandfather!" faltered Glen Palmer, the deepest gratitude and feeling manifested in tone and manner. Ralph felt sure that the lad had a history. He did not, however, embarrass him with any questioning. He liked the way that young Palmer talked and bustled about as soon as the word was given that his proposition was accepted. With an eager face he announced that he had a plan for getting the chickens to his home, and darted off at breakneck speed, waving his hand gratefully back at Ralph a dozen times. Ralph and the claim agent reached the dummy to find Cohen hanging around it in great mental distress. Fry invited him to ride in the cab, and tormented him by talking about his bargain clear back to the roundhouse. Then he relieved Cohen's distress, which bordered on positive distraction, by releasing him from his contract. Mrs. Fairbanks greeted Ralph with her usual loving, kindly welcome when he reached home. The old family cottage was a veritable nest of comfort, and the young engineer enjoyed it to the utmost. There was always some special favorite dainty awaiting Ralph on his return from a trip, and he had a fine appetizing meal. "We had a visitor today, Ralph," said Mrs. Fairbanks, as they sat chatting in the cozy sitting room a little later. "Who was that, mother?" Mrs. Fairbanks with a smile handed her son a card that had been lying on the mantle. Ralph smiled, too, as he looked it over. "H'm," he said. "Quite dignified, 'Mr. Dallas,' our old friend Zeph, eh? What's this mysterious monogram, cryptogram, or whatever it is, way down in the corner of the card?" "It looks like two S's," suggested Mrs. Fairbanks.