"You bet, sister."

"Have you any money? Nothing makes people so confident and trustful as
the sight of money?"

"I've got it," he said, complacently.

"Then you come to the hotel this evening.... Just do as I say. I'll
manage it. In a couple of days--if you have the nerve and do exactly
what I say--you can forget Ovid Nixon and take a long journey."

Two hours later, when Peaney entered the lobby of the Mountain House, he
saw a very fat, uncouthly dressed backwoodsman talking to Pansy. She
signaled him and he walked over nonchalantly.

"Mr. Baines," said Pansy, "here's the gentleman I was speaking about. He
can advise you. He's a broker, and everybody trusts him." She lowered
her voice. "He's very rich, himself. Made it in stocks. I guess he
knows what's going on right in Mr. Rockefeller's private office.... You
couldn't do better than to talk business with him.... Mr. Peaney, Mr.
Baines."

"Very glad to meet you, sir," said Peaney, in his grandest manner.

"Much obleeged, and the same to you," said Scattergood, beaming his
admiration. "Hear tell you're one of them stock brokers."

"Yes, sir. That's my business."