the situation. "I'll back you, Bob. He made a verbal contract with you
for all you could catch. I heard him say so myself."

"But, great guns, Al, what will I do with so many turtles?" asked the
banker, looking hopelessly from one to the other.

"I'll tell you what," said his friend still laughing; "our company's
going to give a dinner in Pittsburgh day after tomorrow to our Western
Pennsylvania agents. I've been looking for a novelty for the dinner
and this will do fine. We'll go into the bank and call up the Fort
Henry Hotel and talk with the manager. We'll sell him the turtles and
you come down and have dinner with us and meet our men."

They were gone about twenty minutes, and both were laughing when they
returned.

"You win, Bob," said the banker.

"All right," laughed the happy boy. "Where do you want them delivered
and who'll count them?"

"Take them over to the express office, and I'll take your word for the
count, Bob. Tell them I'll send over the shipping directions later."

"How about the grain sacks?" asked Bob. "The turtles are mine, but the
grain sacks belong to Uncle Joe, and I'll have to charge you extra for
them unless you guarantee that they'll be returned."

"I'll guarantee to have them returned," said the banker, "but tell me,
Bob, how in the world did you catch sixty-three turtles since Saturday