“'Ain't no use preachin' a long sermon over the remains. 'Twas a simple funeral and nobody sent flowers. Inside of a month we was cleaned out and the wheat place had gone out of business--failed, busted, you understand. Our fish dealer friend asked some questions, and found out the shebang wa'n't a real stock dealer's at all. 'Twas what they call a “bucket shop,” and we'd bought nothin' but air, and paid a commission for buyin' it. And the smilin', nice man that run the swindle had been hangin' on the edge of bust for a long while and knowed 'twas comin'. Our five hundred had helped pay his way to a healthier climate, that's all.' “'Hold on a minute,' says Fatty, lookin' more interested. 'What was the name of the firm that took you greenhorns in?' “''Twas the Empire Bond, Stock and Grain Exchange,' says I. 'And 'twas on Derbyshire Street.' “He give a little jump. Then he says, slow, Hu-u-m! I--see.' “'Yes,' says I. 'I thought you would. You had a mustache then and your name was diff'rent, but you seemed familiar just the same. When your false hair got washed off I knew you right away.' “He took out his pocket pen and his check book and done a little figgerin'. “'Humph!' he says, again. 'You lost five hundred and I've paid you five hundred and five. What's the five for?' “'That's my commission on the sales,' I says. “And just then comes a hail from outside the shanty. Out we bolted and there was Sam Davis, just steppin' ashore from his power boat. Williams's housekeeper had strained a p'int and had shaded her orders by a couple of days. “Williams and Sam started for home right off. I followed in the Shootin' Star, havin' borrered gasoline enough for the run. I reached the dock ha'f an hour after they did, and there was Fatty waitin' for me. “'Berry,' says he, 'I've got a word or two to say to you. I ain't kickin' at your givin' me tit for tat, or tryin' to. Turn about's fair play, if you can call the turn. But it's against my principles to allow anybody to beat me on a business deal. Do you suppose,' he says, 'that I'd have paid your robber's prices without a word if I hadn't had somethin' up my sleeve? Why, man,' says he, 'I gave you my CHECKS, not cash. And I've just telephoned to the Wellmouth Bank to stop payment on those checks. They're no earthly use to you; see? There's one or two things about high finance that you don't know even yet. Ho, ho!' “And he rocked back and forth on his heels and laughed. “I held up my hand. 'Wait a jiffy, Mr. Williams,' says I. 'I guess these checks are all right. When we fust landed on Woodchuck, I judged by the looks of the shanty that Baker hadn't left it for good. I cal'lated he'd be back. And sure enough he come back, in his catboat, on Thursday evenin', after you'd turned in. Them checks was payable to “Bearer,” you remember, so I give 'em to him. He was to cash 'em in the fust thing Friday mornin', and I guess you'll find he's done it.'”