"Woodford," he cried, thrusting the check up into the cattle-shipper's face, "this thing is not worth a damn! There is no money here to pay it." "No money to pay it!" echoed Woodford. "You must be crazy. We put the money in here Monday. There's ten thousand dollars here to pay it." "Well," said the old man, trembling with anger, "there is none here now. You gave me this check Tuesday on my cattle which you and Harris bought, and you told me there was money here to meet it. I thought you were all right, of course, and I did not come to town until to-day. Now the cashier says there is not a cursèd cent here to the credit of you and Harris." The blood faded out of the cattle-shipper's face, leaving him as white as a sheet. He turned slowly to the cashier: "What became of that money?" he gasped. "Why," the officer replied, "it was drawn out on the check of yourself and Harris. Did n't you know about it? The check was properly endorsed." "Show me the check," said Thomas Woodford, striving hard to control the trembling of his voice. "There must be some mistake." The cashier went to his desk and returned with a check, which he spread out on the table before the cattle-shipper. The man seized it and carried it to the light, where he scrutinized it closely. It was in proper form and drawn in the firm name of "Woodford & Harris," directing the Fourth National Bank to pay to William Harris ten thousand dollars. It was properly endorsed by William Harris and bore the stamp of the New York Clearing House. "When was this check cashed?" asked Woodford. "It was sent in yesterday," answered the cashier. "Is there anything wrong with it?" For a time Woodford did not speak. He stood with his back to the two men and was evidently attempting to arrive at some solution of the matter. Presently he turned and faced the angry land-owner. "There has been a mistake here, Mr. Izzard," he said, speaking slowly and calmly. "Suppose I give you my note for the money; the bank here will discount it, and you will not be put to any inconvenience." To this the old gentleman readily assented. "All I want," he assured the shipper, "is to be safe. Your note, Woodford, is good for ten times the sum." Thomas Woodford turned to the desk and drew a negotiable note for the amount of the check. This he gave to Mr. Izzard, and then hurried to the telegraph office, where he wired Harris asking for an immediate explanation of the mysterious transaction. He was a man accustomed to keep his own counsels, and he was not yet ready to abandon them. He gave directions where the answer was to be sent, then he went to the hotel, locked himself in his room, and began to pace the floor, striving to solve the enigma of this queer proceeding on the part of William Harris.