“He is one of the best fellows in creation, begad,” responded the old head. “Rich as mud, ignorant as a day laborer, and one of the fastest, jolliest, most liberal dogs that ever lived. He wants to take a shy at wheat, and I mentioned you as being the fellow he wanted to deal with. So you had better drop around to the office after board, and I will introduce you. And remember what I say, begad: It will pay you to stand in with old Pat.” And with a wise shake of his head to imply that great things were to follow, the old man went on ’Change to buy a few thousand bushels of wheat--just to stir up the animals--as he expressed it. Pat Morain proved on introduction to be all the broker had described him to be, and something more. He was a fat, jolly old fellow, whose wide mouth was constantly expanded in a grin of satisfaction. He was satisfied with himself and everybody else, and felt as young at sixty as does many a man at twenty-five. He had been a day laborer in his time, had Pat; had started in life as a log-driver on one of the many lumbering streams up north. He almost owned that stream now, for he owned the land on either side of it for many a mile, and his rafts of logs--driven by others now--almost covered the stream from sight. He was very rich, and enjoyed his riches as well as a man of his antecedents could be expected to enjoy wealth. He was very proud of the fact that he, ignorant and unaided, had accumulated so much money; yet he was altogether unspoiled by his prosperity; and by his own description, which was probably right, he was just a jolly old Irishman who wanted all the fun he could get. Just now he wanted to speculate a little in wheat, less for the probable profits of the speculation than for the excitement engendered in the operation. Elwell was soon on very easy terms with the old gentleman; showed him around town, and altogether made himself so agreeable as to captivate the lumberman completely. They made their shy at wheat, and luckily were on the right side of the market, so old Pat got a handsome return for his investment. “I like you,” he said bluntly, one day, “and I want you to do me a favor.” “What is it?” inquired Elwell. “I want you to go home with me,” replied Morain. “You are a clever fellow, and we need clever fellows up there. You just come up with me and look things over, and if you don’t see a better chance than you have got here, why, you won’t be any the worse for the trip, anyhow.” “But what can I do there? I wouldn’t mind changing if I could change for the better. But I don’t see what chance there is in a small place.” “You come along,” insisted the old man. “I’ll look after the chances for you. Tell you what: You come home with me for a visit. You’ll get heaps of fun, and you needn’t stay any longer than you like. You’ll see Fanny, anyhow, and that will please her. I expect she will scold about my spree down here, so you had better come along and get your share.”