"But say, Mr. Moses, you haven't said a word about your business yet, and I've been a bragging about my farm and stock for half an hour." "Don't worry about that, Mr. Jones. I haven't got much to tell. I'm a traveling salesman for a Chicago house; and, like you, I intend to rest up for a couple of weeks and see the Fair. I am happy to say that I stand well with my firm, and I am to be taken in as the junior member soon. The head of the firm has been the friend to whom I owe all my advancement and advantage. I hope sometime to settle down into a quiet business life and enjoy a home once more. Your talk takes me back to my old Indiana home and its comforts." "Ah, that's it, Mr. Moses, it is plain your parents have given your mind a good mold. Here, newsboy, just bring over to me and Mr. Moses two of your best five cent cigars and we'll go into the smoker and have a smoke. I don't never smoke cigars, but these are extra days, and we can afford the luxuries." The idea seemed to amuse Mr. Moses, but he complied with the request of the friendly farmer, and, with a good-natured wink at the newsboy, took out a cigar and deftly stuck it into his pocket as he pulled out one of his own. Uncle could find no change and without more ado took out a roll of bills from his breast pocket. The smallest bill was ten dollars but neither Mr. Moses nor the boy could change it. One of the young men across the aisle volunteered to help them out of the difficulty and counted the change into Uncle's hand. Just then the newsboy's heel struck Mr. Moses' foot sharply and there was a quick response. The change went into one of Uncle's trouser's pockets and the roll of bills into the other, when he and Mr. Moses went into the smoking car and were soon behind a cloud of smoke. The newsboy came in presently and there were a few whispered words between him and Mr. Moses. "Apples, pears, bananas, sweet oranges, here, five cents apiece." There was no sale for anything eatable in the smoker just then and the boy returned to the rear cars. "You didn't notice when the gentleman across the aisle made change for you that you got flim-flamed did you?" "That I got what?" said Uncle. "That you got flim-flamed. Did you count your change when that young gent gave it to you? This is a money making occasion you know and the gentry are on the make." "Of course I counted the money. Nobody gets me that way." "I'll bet a cigar that you haven't got over seven dollars of that ten dollar bill." "It's a go," said Uncle as he thrust his hand into his pocket and drew out a handfull of coins. He laid his hat between his knees and counted the money into it. "Six dollars, six fifty, six seventy-five, seven, seven ten, seven fifteen." [Illustration: "UNCLE AND MR. MOSES WERE SOON BEHIND A CLOUD OF SMOKE."]