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The rain dripped from the awning in front and fell upon the roof of the storeroom at the back with a soft and steady roar. "Good f'r the corn," MePhail said after a long pause. "Purty cold, though." Gilbert was tranquil-he had a shot in reserve. "Sam's wife said his wife said he was thinkin' some of goin' into a bank here-" "A bank!" "What in thunder-"
Link's gone down to the city to get some money." "All right," said MePhail; "any time." "Goin' t' snow?" "Looks like it. I'll haf to load a lot o' ca'tridges ready fr biz." About an hour later old lady Bingham burst upon the banker, wild and breathless. "I want my money," she announced. "Good morning, Mrs. Bingham. Pleasant-" "I want my money. Where's Lincoln?"
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