“Your note’s no good to me,” Cappy protested.  “I told you once before it wasn’t hockable at any bank.”

“Then I’ll withdraw my proposition.”

“And present a substitute?”

“No, sir.”

“I guess I’ll take your note,” Cappy said eagerly.

“I thank you for the compliment,” Matt laughed; and Cappy, no longer able to dissemble, laughed with him—­and their feud was over.  Consequently, post-mortems being in order, Matt went on:  “I feel pretty sneaky about sticking you with all those bills on the Tillicum that Morrow & Company defaulted on, just because the law enabled me to do so—­but you did your best to ruin me; you wouldn’t have showed me any pity or consideration.”

“Not a dog-goned bit!” Cappy declared firmly.  “I was out to bust you wide open for the good of your immortal soul.  I would have taken your roll away from you, my son, by fair means—­or—­er—­legal, if I could.”  He looked up at Matt, with such a smile as he might have applied to a lovable and well-beloved son.  “I hope you’ve got sporting blood enough in you to realize I didn’t really want your little bank roll, Matt,” he said half pleadingly.  “I don’t know just why I did it—­except that I’m an old man and I know it; and I hate to be out of the running.  I suppose, just because I’m old, I wanted to take a fall out of you—­you’re so young; and—­oh, Matt, you do make a scrap so worth while!

“And, because I’ve lived longer in this world and fought harder for what I’ve got than you’ll ever have to fight, I wanted to put about six feet of hot iron into your soul.  You’re a little bit too cocksure, Matt.  I tell you it’s a mistake to hold your business competitor cheap.  I want you to know that the fine gentleman who plays cribbage with you at your club to-night will lift the hair off your head down here on the Street to-morrow, because that’s the game; and nobody shakes hands with you before giving you the poke that puts you to sleep.  There are a lot of old men out in the almshouse just because they trusted too much in human nature; and I wanted to show you how hard and cruel men can be and excuse their piracy on the plea that it is business!  I tell you, Matt Peasley, when you’ve lived as long as I have you’ll know men for the swine they are whenever they see some real money in sight.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised if you got the lesson over after all,” Matt replied gravely.  “You certainly made me step lively to keep from getting run over.  You scared me out of a year’s growth.”

Cappy laughed contentedly.

“And what are you going to do with all this money you admit you owe me and decline to let me see the color of for a year?”

“Do you really want to know?” Matt queried.

“I’ll take you to luncheon up at the Commercial Club if you’ll tell me.”

Matt bent low and whispered in Cappy’s ear: 

“I’m going to marry your daughter.  I’ll have to furnish a home and—­”