"What are you going to do with this money ?" He glanced at the heap of bills he had flung on the table between them.
Fulkerson scratched his head.

"Ah, dogged if I know: Can't we give it to the deserving poor, somehow, if we can find 'em ?" "I suppose we've no right to use it in any way.

You must give it to Dryfoos." "To the deserving rich?
Well, you can always find them.

I reckon you don't want to appear in the transaction! I don't, either; but I guess I must." Fulkerson gathered up the money and carried it to Conrad.

He directed him to account for it in his books as conscience-money, and he enjoyed the joke more than Conrad seemed to do when he was told where it came from.
Fulkerson was able to wear off the disagreeable impression the affair left during the course of the fore-noon, and he met Miss Woodburn with all a lover's buoyancy when he went to lunch.