It was seventeen miles from Charleston, South Carolina, at a place where the roads crossed. There were half a dozen housesⒶalteration in the MS; one of them was the store, another was the smithyⒶtextual note Ⓐemendation. These two industries were just beginning their career in the hands of a couple of young experimenters, strangers to each other and to their neighbors. The store-keeper, James Marsh, was a Georgian, twenty-threeⒶalteration in the MS years of age; Thomas Hill, the blacksmith, was a Connecticut Yankee, fresh from the North; his age, also, was twenty-three.

It took Marsh and Hill only a dayⒶalteration in the MS to size each other up favorably, and only a week to become close friends. Then Marsh made a business proposal.

“Let's pool interests,” he said. “This place commands the custom of all the planters and all the negroes for five miles around, andⒶalteration in the MS is going to be a good stand for both of us. You've got eight hundred dollars of newly-inheritedⒶalteration in the MS cash; you don't need it, and I do. Give it to me, and become a full partner with me. It's a lot of money, and I can get a heavy credit and long time on that kind of backing.”

Many a Hill would have hesitated, and felt that this was rather sudden,Ⓐalteration in the MS in the circumstances. Many a Hill would have said to himself, “It won't do—I don't know anything about this young fellow yet.” Many a Hill would have exhibited some shade of natural caution, and asked for time to think the matter over. But this Hill did none of these things. His character was of a simple sort; it was not in his nature to wrong any one, nor to suspect any one of being willing to wrong him; in his village at home he had had no experiences calculated to damage his confidence in the honesty of his fellow men; therefore he handed over his little hoard without hesitation and became his new friend's partner.

Time drifted along, the business prospered, the friendship held, the young fellows were inseparable comrades. They “Tom'd” and “Jimmy'd” each other, and were deeply affectionate, each in his own way. The Southerner was demonstrative, the Northerner less so; the one flamed, the other smouldered, but both were warm enough. The Southerner was full of energy and business shrewdness, the Northerner was untiringly industrious, faithful, and valuable, but he had no faculty for business, nor for planning and pushing, and was not of the kind thatⒶalteration in the MS get rich. The Southerner was all life, activity, breeziness, and he had a fine large romantic streak in him, the Northerner was quietⒶalteration in the MS, gentle, plodding; to him life was a pleasant enough journey, but only a journey, not an excursion, not a procession with banners and music.

At the end of threeⒶalteration in the MS years the clouds of the Civil War closed down, and business came to a stand-still. The partners realized that their prosperity had undergone a collapse. They sat sadly consideringⒶemendation the situation. Marsh said—

“I am to blame, Tom. IⒶalteration in the MS have carried sail too long. I ought to have seen what was coming, and begun to collect the outstanding bills and close up the business. It's too late, now—we are caught. Ruined is the word.”

“I reckonⒶalteration in the MS it's so, Jimmy, but don't you blame yourself—Ⓐalteration in the MSI can't allowⒶemendation it. If you ought to have seen it, I ought to have seen it too, but I didn't, and so nobody's to blame. It's your brains that built the business—I never should have arrived anywhere with it. If you've made a miscalculation, there's nothing to blame about it. Don't you worry, and I shan't.”

“It's good of you to say it, Tom, and it's like you, you oldⒶalteration in the MS good-hearted frog, but I can't help it, I've ruined us both, and it's all my fault—I ought to have been looking out for what was coming. Ah, by George, just think of it! If we had begun to close up six months ago we'd be out and safe, now, with four or five thousand dollars in our pockets. But now Ⓐalteration in the MS—oh, Great Scott, who's going to pay up!”

The men were patriots—each from his own point of view. It was time for Hill toⒶalteration in the MS go; in a little while it would be too late; the region was already becoming uncomfortable for Union men. The parting was not gay, but it was not sad. MarshⒶalteration in the MS said—what everybody thought—

“It's only a little flurry; it'll be over in three months, thenⒶalteration in the MS you'll be back again. Meantime I'll do my level best; I'll save such dollars as I can out of the wreckage, and then we'll make a fresh startⒶalteration in the MS and build the business up again as good as new.Ⓐalteration in the MS Good-bye and good luck! Sun gwyne shine t'morrer,Ⓐalteration in the MS as the niggers say.”

Hill bent his way northward, and presently the gigantic “little flurry” opened up behind him, and for four years and moreⒶalteration in the MS the great world stood open-mouthed and gazed at the vast tragedy.Ⓐalteration in the MS Ⓐtextual note

They were long years, but the finish came at last.Ⓐalteration in the MS Peace was declared, the war was over. About the end of April, 1865, a letter addressed to Hill andⒶalteration in the MS bearing the Charleston postmark arrived at the blacksmith's late home in Connecticut.Ⓐalteration in the MS It went back to Marsh, theⒶalteration in the MS sender, marked “Address not known.” A month later Marsh arrived in the village in person. The postmaster could tell him nothing about Hill'sⒶalteration in the MS whereabouts, but said Henry Addicks would be more likely than another to know his address. Addicks kept the boarding house. Addicks was quite ready to talk, and said—

“Did I know him? Knowed him from the cradle! And good friends always, him and me. Now as to finding him—let me see. Um—well, I'll think of the name of the place in a minute. When he moved away from here heⒶalteration in the MS wasn'tⒶemendation expecting any letters, you see, and so—”

“Not any from the South?”

“Along at first, yes, I think he was, but not after the war got a good start. Might you be from the South?”

“Yes, I knew him there. I knew his partner, too.”

“No—is that so? Name was—name was—”

“Marsh.”

“That's it! Is he alive yet?”

“I think so; yes, I believe he is.”

“Well, he set great store by Marsh. Believed in him. The boys didn't, but he did. They laughed at him, and said Southerners didn't pay Northern debts, but they couldn't shake him. He always said he knowed one Southerner that would pay if he could. There was a money-accountⒶalteration in the MS betwixt them, I forget now, just what it was. But my!Ⓐalteration in the MS he'd believe in anybody—born so, you know. Oh, I knowed him from the cradle. Good cuss, dreadful slow, but stiddy as an island.”

“How did he come to leave here?”

“Well, first-off, he was going into the army, but got knocked out with typhoid for six weeks; then he started up his shop and run it about a half a year, I sh'd say, but he didn't prosper. He can make money, for he's a hard worker; but he can't collect it—so there 'tis, you see. So then, as I was telling you, he got sort of discouraged, and struck for the West. Told me he was going to make a try at a little place in Indiana, by the name of—name of—no, sir, I can't 'callⒶemendation it. Now if you were going to be here a couple of days—”

“I'll be here that long, maybe longer.”

“All right; my wife's down east, and I'll write her; she'll remember that name, and if you'll look in here about day after to-morrow in the evening, I'll let you have it.”

Marsh got the name at the time promised, and left for Indiana the next day. He found the village, but not Hill. Hill had stayed there until along in the spring of '62, and had then gone away—whither, no one was now able to say. Abel Smith would probably remember, for he and Hill were together a good deal. Good; and where might Smith be found? Nowhere, just now; he was down South-west somewhere, but “liable” to come back any minute.

And it happened according to the conjecture; Smith came back in about a month. He said Hill had gone to the village of Freeman's Flats in northern Ohio. Marsh went to Freeman's Flats. Everybody there remembered him, everybody spoke well of him; but they spoke as of one absent. Marsh asked—

“Is he gone?”

“Yes. He was here a good deal over a year—till October, '63.”

“Then he went away? Where to?”

The villager studied a moment or two, then answered hesitatingly—and conscientiously—Ⓐalteration in the MS

“Well, I don't rightly know. He got burnt up in a boarding house.”

“Burnt up?”

“It's what happened. Anybody can tell you about it. Billy Samson buried him—what was left.”

Marsh hunted up Billy Samson. His address was “the s'loons—any of them.” There were but three; Samson was easily found. He was not interested, at first, but after Marsh had treated a couple of times, the spirit of accommodation came upon him and he offered to show the grave and tell all about the tragedy.

They went to the forlorn little graveyard, and the “town loafer”—which was Samson's village title—pointed out the resting place of Thomas Hill. Marsh noticed that the grave had a tidier look than was the case with the most of the others, and that at the head of it was a bunch of wild flowers in a tin can. He said—

“I am glad to see that somebody remembers him kindly.”

“Yes. It's me.”

“You liked him, then?”

“Like a dog.”

“Well, he was a good man.”

“Many's the good turn he done me, I can tell you that. You know a poor devil like me ain't lousy with friends, and so—say, there was a bully here that used to put upon me and lick me every time he got a chance, but he started in on that lay once tooⒶemendation often. Tom Hill happened along and advised him to leggo me, and got some sass, and he took him up—just so—and slammed him down and broke him in two—”

“Good for Hill!”

“—and he's a cripple from that day to this, and can't scare a cat, now, let alone a human. I keep that grave looking thataway. Say Ⓐalteration in the MS—you know he ought to prospered, but somehow he couldn't seem to. Why, he worked like a nigger, but he hadn't the heart to crowd a man that let on to be hard up, and when these hellions found that out they took advantage of him and didn't pay him. He got to running behind-hand, and was two hundred dollars in debt when he got burnt up. It was the only thing that saved him. Creditors going to sell him out the very next day, tools and all. Lord, he was low-spirited that evening! We set and talked about it, and he said they couldn't sell him out for enough to pay his debts, and he wouldn't be allowed to go away and try another start somewhere, and was plumb discouraged and wished he was dead; said if he was fifty dollars in debt after the sale he was going to kill himself. Well, he was in earnest, you know; so maybe he was willing enough for the fire to take him, poor fellow.”

Marsh heaved a deep sigh and said—

“I wish I had been here, I would have scraped that two hundred dollars together for him if it took my shirt.”

“No!” exclaimed the town loafer, “would you though?Ⓐalteration in the MS Where did you know him? What is your name?”

“James Marsh.”

“No! Jimmy? Ⓐalteration in the MS”

“Yes—Jimmy.”

“From down South! Land, he believed in you! They all chaffed him, and said down there they didn't pay Northern debts, but itⒶalteration in the MS never phazed him—said he knowed one Southerner that was different. It was you, you know; he told all about that business down there.” He cast a swift glance at Marsh's face, and said, “Ah, by Jackson, if he was only alive now! You would rake together that two hundred for him, wouldn't you?”

“If it took my last shirt I would.”

Samson flung a searching and excitedⒶalteration in the MS look around the place, then put his mouth close to Marsh's ear, and said—

“B' god, he ain't dead!”

He did not wait for expressions of astonishment from Marsh, but plunged eagerly into the history of the case.Ⓐalteration in the MS

“Hold still and lemme tell you. I've held onto that secret two years, and it a-swelling and a-swelling all the time and phizzing and sizzling to get out, and now that it's safe to uncork, if I don't pull it I'll bust. You see, it was like this. It was a rickety old shack, a played-out boarding house, and Tom was the only boarder left; he was the only man poor enough to stand the 'commodations. Old SamⒶalteration in the MS White and his wife kept it, and he went on crutches and was cook and chambermaid, and she was close to death with consumption, and due to cash-in in about a week. The fire was in their end of the house and got both of them early. I was the first man there, and Tom Hill busted out of the window with his hair afire and come rushing past, breaking for the river, and I reconnized him. He says ‘Don't gimme away,’ and I understood, and says ‘You bet!’ He run down the bank and into the river, and shoved out and grabbed a drift-log, and that's the last I've seen of him. And he was pretty dim, then, because his head wasn't afire any more, by that time.

“Well, next, the town arrived—a whole crowd, as many as a hundred and fifty, I reckon—Ⓐalteration in the MSand watched the fire down to the last ember, and I explained to them in a way cal'lated to crowd the actual factsⒶalteration in the MS a little,Ⓐalteration in the MS how I'd seen old White Ⓐalteration in the MS rush out with his hairⒶalteration in the MS afire and take to the river, and was under water and gone before I could get to him. When I got that far I was hit with a terrible uneasiness.”

“Why?”

“The crutches, you know. They'd properly expect to find them on the bank or down the shore somewheres, and I knowed they wouldn't. But—well, you know, humans are just cattle, they don't think. I never had any trouble about theⒶalteration in the MS crutches. They warn't mentioned.

“Nobody bothered about old Sam and his wife, they only just talked and talked and talked aboutⒶalteration in the MS Tom Hill and how blame' good he was, and how pitiful it was to have him go thataway. I said I done what I could to save him, but was too late, and said it was awful to see him scrambling around in the fire like a lawyerⒶalteration in the MS in hell, so they was satisfied and felt resigned about it, and said His ways ain't like ourn, but generly better in the long run, and IⒶalteration in the MS told them a lot of other int'resting things—mostly made up, you know—and kep’ them from suspicioning the true facts of the business.

“When it was dawn we raked the two bodies out of the embers. They were just black hunks, you know, and hadn't any shape, but I selected the bestⒶalteration in the MS oneⒶalteration in the MS and put it in a candle-box and buried it here where you see the grave, and they buried the other one. They don't take any care of theirn, but mine's going to continue up-to-date whilst I'm on top of the ground, for Tom Hill was a good friend to me.”

“But dear me, since it isn't Tom at all that's under there—”

“That's all right, that hunk's representing him, it's his debbuty, andⒶalteration in the MS as long as I'm on deck that hunk is going to be respected.Ⓐalteration in the MS Say Ⓐalteration in the MS—I know where Tom is, and I'll tell you.”

He took out of his pocket a handful of soiled envelops.Ⓐalteration in the MS They bore his name and address—not writtenⒶalteration in the MS in an adult hand, but disguised in a child's roman capitals.Ⓐalteration in the MS He took a slip of paper from one of them, and showed it to Marsh. It had an address on it, and the word “Thanks.”

“This is not disguised,” said Marsh, “it's his hand; I recognize it.”

“Well, the others have got just that in them. They're from the places he's lived in since he got burnt up and slid out. Here's the last two. They're from the same place, a year apart. Rocky Hill, Wisconsin. The last one ain't a month old, yet. You notice he's been there a year and more, now.”

“Yes.”

“What would you argue out of that?”

“Well, I don't know. What?”

“Time for him to be busted again, don't you reckon?”

“I didn't think of that, but certainlyⒶalteration in the MS it's well reasoned.”

“Mr. Marsh, you remember about your last shirt? If he was busted, now, and a hundred dollars would pull him through, you would raise that hundred if it took—”

“My last shirt? I give you my word I would.”

“All right, then, you can look at this one. I got it day before yesterday.”

He took a small, badly printed handbill out of an envelop and passed it to Marsh, who read it.Ⓐalteration in the MS

“Public Vendue. The smithy of Thomas Hill will be sold at public vendue on Tuesday the 28th inst., to satisfy an expired note of hand for $100.”

“Poor old chap!” Marsh began to walk slowly up and down, musing, planning, lost in reverie. As his plannings gathered form, his pace quickened and his face began to light up and his eyes to show excitement. Presently he stopped short, and said—

“I've got it! And plenty of time—a week to spare. Billy Samson, are you theatrical, romantic, and all that? Because—look here, can you spare a week from your—from your—”

“Engagements? Likely that's the word that's got mislaid. None this year; never mind about next—the Lord'll provide. Play ball—I'm a-listening.”

“All right, we'll be at that vendue! You'll go with me? I pay the freight. You'll go?”

“Will a duck swim? Will I travel, and see the world—free gratis for nothing? I bet you! Why, I've never been thirty mile from this town!”

Then he remembered his clothes—his rags—and was ashamed, and glanced down at them, and up at Marsh—a pantomime which said, “But these block the game, you see.”

“They're all right,” said Marsh, “you'll see. Billy, we'll have the stunningest theatrical time you ever saw. I'll dress up like that, myself, and we'll play a game on Tom Hill that'll beat the band. Look at this.” He got a great roll of greenbacks out of his pocket. “Count it.”

“Land, but it's a pile!” said Samson.

He counted the bills, slowly, lingeringly, lovingly, then drew a deep and reverentⒶalteration in the MS breath.

“Eight hundred dollars—by jimminy but it's a pile!”

“Half of it's mine, Samson,Ⓐalteration in the MS half of it's Tom's.”

“Shake! By God, he said you was white, and it's so!”

“But that's not all. In the bank there's four thousand more, and half of that's Tom's, too.”

“Shake again—shake! Tom's rich and out of his troubles, goodness knows I'm glad I've lived to see this day. He's just a love, Tom is”—the tears came, his voice trembledⒶalteration in the MS with affectionate emotion—“and he broke that son of a bitch's back, you know. Go on, I'm a-worshipingⒶemendation; go on, White Man, tell me the rest of the scheme.”

“It'll be great, Billy, great—you'll see. I'll dress up as a tramp and we'll ride in emigrant cars; and when we get there we'll say we've been out of luck, and strike him for a loan—”

“By George, it'll lay over the circus!Ⓐalteration in the MS We'll fool him down to the ground. I can see him now. He'll be that sorry for us he'll clear forget his own troubles, and if he's got a last shirt—”Ⓐalteration in the MS

“That's it—he'll sell it on the sly and we'll get the money—”

“And take it, too. And then—”

“Then we'll be at the vendueⒶalteration in the MS, Billy—”

“I know! My, it'llⒶemendation Ⓐalteration in the MS beⒶalteration in the MS grand when the surprise comes!”

The pair spent two or threeⒶalteration in the MS days in Chicago, on the way,Ⓐalteration in the MS and then left for Rocky Hill—Ⓐalteration in the MSto all appearance tramps of old experience and squalid degree.Ⓐalteration in the MS For baggage Samson had a soiled bundle on the end of a stick, and MarshⒶalteration in the MS a travel-worn large valise of the kind that is made of linen, in halves that telescope together and are held so by leather straps.

About this time Hill was making a last effort to save himself, being moved to this by worry concerning hisⒶalteration in the MS sweetheart, Mary Lester, niece and heir of Jacob Lester, the man to whom Hill owed the hundred dollars. Lester was proprietor of the sawmill, and was reportedⒶalteration in the MS to be worth twenty thousand dollars. He was middle-aged, a childless widower, and rather a hard man. Of late yearsⒶalteration in the MS he had become a lender of money, and in that field was prospering to his satisfaction. He did not admire unsuccessful people, and his niece's engagement to the blacksmith was not to his taste. He spent much time planning underhandⒶalteration in the MS ways to break it off; the rest of his leisure he spent in trying to persuade Mary to retire from it. Mary was weakening, and he could see it. He began to intimate vaguely, now,Ⓐalteration in the MS that he was thinking of changing his will. He was able to notice that this had an effect. Mary, poor thing,Ⓐalteration in the MS had known nothing but poverty and hard work; in her private dreams she was always consoling herself with pictures of a gildedⒶalteration in the MS future in which her uncle's fortune would release her from labor, clothe her in a way proper to her blooming youth and beauty, and raise her several degrees in the respect and esteem of the village. The hints about the altering of the will blew cold upon these prospects, and costⒶemendation her much and serious reflection, and some sleep.

Uncle Jacob, wily strategist,Ⓐalteration in the MS had another card up his sleeve, and was waiting. At this stage he played it. This card was young Charley Hall, son of the chief storekeeperⒶemendation in the next village, and full partner in his father's prosperous business. Charley Hall was invited, and came, and was deeply smitten. He came in his own buggy, which was new and shiny, and the aspectⒶalteration in the MS of it was not without influence upon Mary Lester. That buggy kept on coming, kept augmenting its influence, too. Mary presently recognizedⒶemendation that her interest in her blacksmith was losing fervency. She wished he would notice it, too, for she had a kind enough heart, though it was a weak one in places; but he did not see it, he was serenely unaware that anything was happening. He was born loyal and steadfast, and was never expecting other people to be otherwise.

He was now come to the house on the errand heretofore mentioned. Mary admitted him, showed him to the parlor—Ⓐemendationwhere her uncle was waiting—Ⓐalteration in the MSand was turning from the door to go away, but he said appealingly,

“Don't go, Mary—stand by me.”

Uncle Jacob, also, said,

“SetⒶalteration in the MS down, Mary, like enough it might int'rest you.” So she remained.

There was an embarrassing silence; then after some halting and dry-swallowing, Hill got a start. He rambled along in a confused and humble and ineffectual way for a while, then the capitalist cut him short.

“It don't need so many words,” he said, acidly, “the upshot of it is, you want the vandueⒶalteration in the MS put off, you want more time on the debt. Now then, it stands to reason you wouldn't come on such a business, withoutⒶalteration in the MS you've got grounds. What's the grounds? What you got to offer?”

It was a cold place for Hill's “grounds.” He realized it; and the offer which he had come to make, and which had seemed rational, suddenly lost much of its sanity, and he found himself ashamed to put it into words. But those intense old eyes were on him and waiting; silence was less endurable than speech; he had nothing in stock to make words out of but that forlorn offer, so perforce he began upon it and blundered miserably along until the capitalist broke in once more with an interruption.

“Oh, I reckon that'll do!”Ⓐalteration in the MS he said, with a touch of sarcasm in tone and manner. “I git the idea. Gosh, what a layout! I'm to take the smithy, and give you time to work out the debt. I'm to collect what you earn, you having no gift to do it yourself. When the debt's paid, me and youⒶalteration in the MS to be partners in the business, and I to go on collecting. It's a noble layout, jest so; then on top of it you pile a gold mine, so to speak: I'm to have half of whatever's coming to you from South CarlinaⒶtextual note, if your partner ain't dead, if he collected anything, if the State didn't hog it—GreatⒶemendation Scott, half partner in a basketful of ifs—is that it? And the main one left out, to-wit, namely, if your pard's gone back on his section's religion and going to play honest with a Yank!” He snapped his fingers, adding, “I wouldn't give that for the half nor the whole of that swag—understand that? No, sir, I decline—surprising as it may look!”

He got up and moved to the door. There he turned, and finished with this:

“Just a last word, now—with the bark on it. The vandue goes on, to-morrow. Ⓐalteration in the MS You're a well enough meaning young man, but you ain't ever going to make a living, you ain't ever going to see the day that you can feed a wife. But there's Mary; she can marry you if she wants to, but she'll never get a cent of my money!”

Then he disappeared. So did the color from Mary's face. The dreaded blow had fallen. She began to sob, hysterically. Hill flew to her side and took her hand, saying—

“Never mind his money, dear, I never loved you for that—”

She put him from her, still sobbing, and said—

“But I want the money; I'm so poor and dependent—just a slave, and I don't want to be a slave any more. I've loved you, but you can't ask me to—to—”

The young fellow was stunned. He stood aside, and looked down upon her, bewildered.

“Mary—Mary,” he said, “do you mean that if I had money it would make a difference?”

She went on sobbing,Ⓐalteration in the MS but made no reply. Presently Hill moved toward the door; in it he turned and said, in an unsteady voice—

“Good-byeⒶemendation, Mary. I loved you dearly. This is a hard day for me.”

When Mary heard the front door close, she said to herself, mournfully, “I am not very happy, now that it's done and ended, but—well, I have done the wise thing.”

From the ambush of the window-shade she watched himⒶalteration in the MS drifting out of her life, and the melancholy droop of his figure smote her, made her heart sore, and she said, trying to forgive herself, trying to justify herself—

“Oh, dear,Ⓐalteration in the MS I had to!—I had to, or I wouldn't ever done it! Why didn't he have something put away—just enough for us to get along decently on, and hold our heads up. But—but—oh, well, I've done right, there wasn't any other way.”

All the same, ten minutes later she was not so certain about it. She was beginning to waver. In another ten minutes she was saying—

“If Charley Hall doesn't come this very minute—”

But he did come. And she gave him her promise with a suddenness which greatly gratified him; for he could not knowⒶalteration in the MS she was afraid that if she did not say yes on the instant she wouldn't ever say it.

Uncle Jacob came in presently andⒶalteration in the MS gave the pair his blessing, and was very happy. So was Charley Hall.

Then uncle Jacob retired, saying he would intrude again in a few minutes, and bring something nice. He kept his word. He brought three hundredⒶalteration in the MS dollars in bank bills, and gave the money to his niece and said it was his betrothal-gift and she could squander it in any way she liked—there would be “another hunk for the trosso.”

It was many times more wealth than the girl had ever possessed before, and she could hardly cramp her thanks into words. The proud old gentleman took his leave again, and left her caressing the notes. Then her thoughts turned remorsefully to her debt-enslaved late sweetheart and a solacing thought came to her: she would make a vast sacrifice which might maybe appease and pacify her troubled conscience and bring it peace. There would be women and girls at the vendue—they always went to auctions, for the sake of the stir and excitement—she would go, too. And she would bid. She would spend her whole three hundred there, so that Tom Hill would be out of debt and have two hundred dollars to start again with. And her new sweetheart must be there, too—but not with her and not near her—they must not seem to be acting in concert.Ⓐalteration in the MS She frankly explained her idea and its purpose, and said he must bid against her and helpⒶalteration in the MS run the things up. The young fellow was charmedⒶalteration in the MS with this mark of attention, this distinction; and he praised her generous spirit and said he would “blow in” three hundred on the scheme on his own account and “make a dandy thing of it.”

During that same afternoonⒶalteration in the MS the pair of tramps drifted into the village and spent two or three sociable hours in the company of the outcasts and loafers of the place—gathering information.Ⓐalteration in the MS They located the smithy, and when they rapped on the door of the humble dwelling-end of it at early candle-light they were not strangers to Hill's recent history but were well posted. They found Hill sitting with bowed head, forlorn and despondent. Without rising or speaking, he took up the bottle that held his candle, shaded his eyes with his hand, gave the visitors a searching and unwelcoming look—for only a moment—thenⒶalteration in the MS sprang up, with their names on his lips, and threw his arms around their necks. It was a warm embrace and warmly returned, the candle taking part and setting fire to Samson's hair. But this was only a detail, and no one minded it.

“Now then,” said Hill, “sit down—sit down, both of you, and let me lookⒶalteration in the MS at you. Lord, it's so good to see you!”

“You knew me!”Ⓐalteration in the MS said Marsh, with dancing eyes; “I knew you would—I said it!”

“Knew you? Knew you?—and I've ached so to see you all this long time?Ⓐalteration in the MS Well, I should say so! And you knew me, too, didn't you, Jimmy?Ⓐalteration in the MS How could you?—I must be so changed.”

“Tom, I'd know you stark naked and painted!” said Marsh; “I said so—said it to-day—didn't I, Billy?”

“Your very words; if it ain't so, I hope to go to—say, isⒶalteration in the MS Ⓐalteration in the MS that a heavenly side of bacon hanging up there?”

“It is, my child, and there's corn meal in the barrel, and coffee in the pot. Fire up on the stove, Billy, and put on the pot and the pan while I mix a pone. I've got an appetite myself, but I didn't know it a little while ago.”

Supper was soon cooked and ready. It was dispatchedⒶalteration in the MS with cordial relish, and seasoned with good talk over old times. In due course Hill said—

“Things have gone hard with me, Jimmy, and I can see that they've gone hard with you, too; but it's only because we weren't together. When we're together we're a team, but one of us is no good without the other.”

“It's so, Tommy, and from this out we'll stick together, won't we?”Ⓐalteration in the MS

“That we will; and Billy with us.Ⓐalteration in the MS We'll tramp off somewhere and get credit and start a shop, and I'll make the money and you'll collect it; and Billy—”

“Billy can't go with us.”

“Why can't he?”

“He has to go back home and take care of your grave. And then—”

“Say—do I smell something a person might make a hot whisky out of?”

“NoⒶalteration in the MS, you don't Billy, but you will, pretty soon. Fire up on the pipes and make yourselves comfortable; I'll be back in a minute.”

Hill went out, and the two tramps slapped each other on back and thigh inⒶalteration in the MS exultation, and SamsonⒶalteration in the MS said it was all “just immense—Ⓐalteration in the MSmakes the circus pale!”

Marsh agreed. “Splendid,” he said, “it's splendidly romantic and dramatic.”Ⓐalteration in the MS

“Well, ain't it, BrerⒶalteration in the MS Marsh! He's worthⒶemendation Ⓐalteration in the MS upwardsⒶalteration in the MS of twoⒶalteration in the MS thousand dollars—”

—“and thinks he hasn'tⒶalteration in the MS a cent—”

—“letting on to go out and buy whisky! Say—what do you reckon he's going to put up the spout? Hat? Shirt? Which do you sup—”Ⓐalteration in the MS

“'sh! he's coming.”

It was his coat that was lacking. But he brought the whisky. He said—

“Now for a nightⒶalteration in the MS!”

“So say we all of us!—hey, MarshⒶalteration in the MS?”

“Indeed we do,Ⓐalteration in the MS Billy. We'll wet down the new firm—Hill, Marsh and Samson. One, two, three—”

“Drink!”

“Bumpers!”

The wassail proceeded, the common joy deepened and mellowed, there were old-time songs, there was laughter. When the whisky ran low, Marsh disappeared,Ⓐalteration in the MS and returned minus hat and coat,—hidden in a convenient place—Ⓐalteration in the MSbut with a fresh bottle. Samson brought the next one, leaving his bundle outside with Marsh's discards. Hill protested, but his guests said they would not allow him to bear any but his proper share in wetting down the firm. Then he confided a secret to them, to explain and justify his not pawning his blacksmithingⒶalteration in the MS plant to further and properly boomⒶalteration in the MS and celebrate the formation of this promisingⒶalteration in the MS new Trust; he said the plant wasn't his, now,Ⓐalteration in the MS he was to be sold out next day for a hundred dollars.Ⓐalteration in the MS

This revelation fell like a blight upon the hilarityⒶalteration in the MS of the tramps. It had that look, at any rate. They seemed so stunned by the disaster that Hill was sorry he had spoken of the matter; there was no hurry,Ⓐalteration in the MS it could have waited; now he had gone and spoiled the night, and all to no useful purpose. He started to say something of the sort, but Marsh put up his hand, as who should say, “keep still—let me think.” A long and oppressive silence followed, then Marsh said, gravely—

“No more whisky to-night; put it away; this thing is serious.” He walked the floor a while, thinking; then he said—

“I believe I see the way out. Wherever we go, we've got to have a plant. We'll bid this one in. How does that strike you?”

“We-ll,” said Hill, hesitatingly, “it—why, it's a good idea, of course, but how are we going to bid it in without any money?”

“I'm coming to that. What are the terms of the sale?”

“Twenty dollars cash, the rest in three and six months.”

“Good enough. All we want is that twenty dollars, the rest will take care of itself.”

The hopefulness that had for a moment dawned in Hill's face passed out of it and he sighed and said—

“You see, the twenty dollars being an impossibility—”

“No, wait a minute; we'll see about that. What is the business worth, Tom?”

“A hundred and fifty dollars a month—if I could collect.”

“Let me see your liabilities.”

“A hundred and ninety-six dollars—here is the list.”

“Goodness!” said Samson, despairingly; “Marsh, the TrustⒶalteration in the MS can't stand a load like that.”

“It's heavy, certainly,Ⓐalteration in the MS but what of it? You wait a minute. Now the assets, Tom.”

Hill smiled a dimⒶalteration in the MS smile and said—

“Bad debts! That's all; there's nothing else. Here is the list.”

Marsh rapidly summed up the figures, and said—

“Why, man, it's nobbyⒶemendation, it's noble! Nine hundred and forty-two dollars! I'll collect every cent of it. I tell you, this Trust is going to go!”

Hill's face lit up again, and he exclaimedⒶalteration in the MS—

“Jimmy, so help me I never thought of that! Of course the assets are as good as gold, with you to do the collecting—with me to do it they are only trash.”

Then his face sobered again. Marsh noticed it.

“Is it the twenty dollars, Tom?”

“You've guessed it.Ⓐalteration in the MS The impossible twenty. It's a sixty-foot wall, Jimmy,Ⓐalteration in the MS with the promised land on the other side. We can't climb over it, nor tunnel under it, nor get around it. We are stuck—that's the amount of it.”

“I don't believe it. We'll get to bed, now, and between this and morning I pledge you I'll hit on a plan.”

Hill cheered up again. He said he regarded a pledge from that source as worth par. He turned in with the remark that he should have a sound sleep this time, and it would be the first for many nights. His lost sweetheart came and troubled his thoughts and grieved his heart for a little while, then she faded away and he began to snore with power.

“Brer Marsh?”

“Yes, Billy.”

“It's panning out elegant, ain't it?”

“A1.”

“What are you going to pretend about the twenty dollars? Going to turn out early and come back and pretend you've squeezed it out of them blatherskites that's been bilking him?”

“It's a good idea. I'll do it. Billy?”

“Go ahead.”

“Who do you reckon are the noblest friends poor people have, and the best?”

Billy—after a careful spell of thinking—

“Billionaires?”Ⓐalteration in the MS

“Sho!”Ⓐalteration in the MS

“Who then?”

“Why, other poor people.”

“No—doⒶalteration in the MS you mean it?”

“There's nothing truer in the world. They know how to feel for the unfortunate—they've been there. Look at the widow's mite; it tells the whole story. Billy, there's more money goes out in coppers every day from the poor to the poor, than is spent on them by the rich, twice over.”

“B' George I never thought of it, but I reckon it's so.”

“It's so, for certain. LookⒶalteration in the MS at Hill. Always poor, always in debt. And I know one of the reasons is, that he helps the other poor. And I know another thing—at least I think I do.”

“What is it, Marsh?”

“ThatⒶalteration in the MS in their turn they help him. There are signs about that unprotected ninety-six dollars of indebtedness that indicate to me that those creditors are poor folk—widows, niggers, and that sort. Billy?”

“Here, and a-listening.”

“When we get through with him he'll cash-in on that 96 right promptly, don't you think?”

“I go bail he will.”Ⓐalteration in the MS

“Billy, what is going to be the gaudiestⒶalteration in the MS theatricality of the whole game?”

“I—well, I don't know, it's all so gilt-edged and red-hot and nobby.Ⓐalteration in the MS Tell me.”

“You know the town talk: about his Mary; and about her rich uncle working all he knows how to break off the match because Tom's poor, and worry her into marrying that young Hall, who is worth thirty thousand dollars; and how she has stood her ground and is going to marry Tom, poverty and all, and get disinherited that very day?”

“Yes, I know,Ⓐalteration in the MS and it's splendid of her, and all that—but where does the dramatics come in?”

“Why, it's at the grand climax, of course—whereⒶalteration in the MS Tom heaves his fortune into her lap before the whole crowd, and she is astonished, and grateful, and triumphant and gratified to death. Don't you see?”

There was silence—which indicated that Samson was disappointed. After a little he reluctantly brought out his criticism—

“Marsh, when you come to look at itⒶalteration in the MS from the stage-side, you know, trading off thirty thousand and a buggy for twoⒶalteration in the MS thousand-odd and a blacksmith shop ain't a good place to turn on the lime-light. GetⒶalteration in the MS it?”

ThereⒶalteration in the MS Ⓐtextual note was no response. Samson waited and listened. Gradually a fine and experienced treble snore rose out of the darkness and reinforced Hill's bass. ThenⒶalteration in the MS Samson joined the band.

Samson and Hill woke a little late in the morning. Marsh was up and gone. Samson explained: Marsh hadⒶalteration in the MS planned a scheme for raising the twenty dollars, and had said, the last thing before going to sleep, that breakfast must not be delayed for him. What was the scheme? Samson did not know. At least he said he did not know.

Hill cooked, Samson set the table. They waited a reasonable time, then began on the meal. By and by Marsh came, but he was looking troubled and worriedⒶalteration in the MS, and said he could not eat, he had no appetite. The remark meant disaster, and it took away what was left of the appetites of the two other members of the Trust. Marsh said—

“I see you have divined what has happened, boys, but don't give up yet; I will succeed, I certainly will, I give you my word. At least—at least I have hopes,” he added, less fervently.Ⓐalteration in the MS

Hill gave him a grateful hand-shake, and tried to say the encouraging word, but he was not able to find a sincere one, and so forbore to venture a counterfeit. Samson sighed heavily, and rose and walked to the window and seemed to be crying. Marsh continued—

“Here is what I have raised—twelve dollars. I am awfully disappointed; I would have betⒶalteration in the MS any amount on that scheme. But don't give up, I'll invent another. Let me walk the floor and think; don't disturb me.”

He walked back and forth, and back and forth, for an hour, muttering, shaking his head, and clawing his hair, while the others sat still and suffered—Samson to keep from laughing, Hill to keep his heart from breaking, for it was frightfully precious time that was being expended on this difficultⒶalteration in the MS scheme. At last there was an interruption—a knock, and a wrinkled woman of sixty or seventy, with a kind face and an anxious mien came in. Without seeming to see the guests, she hastened to Hill and said, eagerly and anxiously—Ⓐalteration in the MS

“I have been away, I have just come back. I did not know about this. How much do you need, to save you; I will run about among our friendsⒶalteration in the MS, and try to get it—I hope it is not too late.”

Hill's eyes filled, and he said aloud—

“Only eight dollars; and I would take it from you in a minute, you unfailing friend, for I know, now, that I could pay it back soon, and all that I owe you besides.”

“I am so thankful. I have brought six; two of it is from old Mat, and two from Irish Dennis—I met them on the way. There is time yet; I will find the rest. I will hurry, and—”

Marsh broke in with—

“Oh, generous soul, oh benefactor of a despairing man, fly! get one more dollar and bring it—I've struck the scheme that will fetch the other one!”

Both flew.

Hill was trembling with excitement. Samson ran and fell upon his neck, murmuring—

“Saved—the Trust is saved!”

“I do believe it, with all my heart I do,” said Hill, gentlyⒶalteration in the MS unhitching from the embrace. “That good soul is a widow, and poorⒶalteration in the MS—the widow Foster; Mat is an old negroⒶalteration in the MS that whitewashes for a living; Dennis does odd jobs—when he can get them. Among them I owe twenty-eight dollars—this addition raises it to thirty-four. A body never had better friends, Billy.”

“I reckon it's so. The poor we have with us always. Lucky, too. It's so's we can pull through when we're in a tight place, ain't it? I wish there was more of them; we could capitalise this Trust away up. Say —do you know, this is going to be one of the biggest things in the market?”

“Do you really believe it?”

“You wait till we launch it into Wall street—you'll see. Squat, and I'll show you. Gimme that rag of wrapping paper—I've got a pencil.” He began to cipher, and Hill tried to show interest; but there wereⒶalteration in the MS noises from the smithy which indicated that an audience was beginning to assemble, and his nerves began to strain and flutter. He couldn't keep from watching the door and praying for Marsh and the widow to come with his fate. Minute after minute, Samson, absorbed in his work, went ciphering eagerlyⒶalteration in the MS on. Finally he looked up satisfied, and said—

“Now then, there you are—all figured out! A hundred and fifty a month is eighteen hundred a year. It's the interest on a capital of eighteen thousand, at ten per cent. Sell out half for nine thousand cash, water the rest—barrels and barrels of it, you know—get up a combine of all the smithies in the State—add water, more water, lakes of it, rivers of it—set her afloat in Wall street, and she'llⒶalteration in the MS breed greenbacks like—”

The door burst open and Marsh flung in a half dollar and was gone again, saying he was hot on the trail of its mate.

The noises in the smithy were increasing. Hill got up and walked the floor, pale and breathing hard; he could no longer listen to Samson, who went enthusiastically on with his ever-growing greenback-factory.

But at the last moment, just as the first cries of the auctioneer rose on the air, Marsh and the widow arrived, breathless, panting, and triumphant. The next moment the happy four were in the smithy.Ⓐalteration in the MS

The place was packed. Among the women sat Mary, looking distraught and downcast; among the men sat young Hall.Ⓐalteration in the MS Everybody glanced at MaryⒶalteration in the MS when Thomas Hill entered, and all noticed, with approval, and without surprise, that she gave him no welcome with her eyes. It was custom for engaged girls to let on that they did not know when a sweetheart was around.

The two tramps created great attention, also amusement. They were immediately recognized, for the village had had glimpses of them the day before, and been refreshed and delighted with their costumes, particularly with Marsh's, whose chaos of rags, patches, and quarrelsome and implacable colors was a work of art which had beenⒶalteration in the MS designed by himself, and whichⒶalteration in the MS fed to satisfaction his passion for startling and impressive effects. It had been his intention that whoso saw it should admireⒶalteration in the MS it and remember it. HeⒶalteration in the MS was gratified to see, now, that part of this intention had materialized. His face was beamy with smiling comradeship and good nature, and it suited his dramatic side to pretend that he was just aⒶemendation trifle under the influence of gracious and benevolent stimulants. This grieved Hill a little, and seemed an impolitic addition to his friend's effects, in the circumstances, but he was too loyal to let any see that he had noticed it. Marsh whispered to Samson—

“Find a place at a distance from me. Don't bid till I bid; then follow me and raise me, every time,Ⓐalteration in the MS till we get the anvil. The anvil's the main thing, you know.”

Plenty of room was made for the tramps; the people squeezed apart and gave them more than they needed, but not in sign of welcome; indeed they made it plain that their proximity was not wanted. Marsh had brought his uncanny telescope-valise with him, and kept it in his lap when he seated himself. The widow found a seat beside Mary, who whispered to her—

“I am so glad. I want to bid it in for him, and I haven't the courage before so many. You must bid for me.”

The auctioneer had been praising the anvil humorously, but had stopped to admire Marsh's outfit; he resumed, now—

“As I was saying, this anvil's a daisy. The only one of the kind. Make me an offer, gentlemen. Hair-spring steel—cameⒶalteration in the MS over with Columbus —no sign of decay, pureⒶalteration in the MS as bell-metal, sweet as a flute—listen!” He gave it a bang with the sledge. “Do you hear that? Gimme a bid. How much am I offered, gentlemen?Ⓐemendation How—”

“FiveⒶalteration in the MS dollars.”

It was Harvey, the cross-roads smith.

“Five I'm offered. Five—five—going at five; six, do I hear?”

“Six!”

It was Jenkins, the Roopville smith.

“Six—six—going at six—this noble anvil, I'm ashamed!—going at—”

“Seven!”

From Collins, the Bloomfield smith.

For a time, these were the only bidders. A dollar at a bid they ran the offers up to nine dollars; then at half a dollar they carried the riseⒶalteration in the MS up to thirteen. That seemed to end the matter. The auctioneer turned on more steam, and tried hard for a further raise, but presently gave it up as a waste of time, and began on the familiar winding-up formula—

“Going! Once—twice—three times and—”

“Fifteen dollars!”

It was Charley Hall. It made a splendid surprise, and the house said to itself, “Why, what's the matter now? Does he want to help the winning rival out of his trouble?” The auctioneer's spirits revived.

“Thank you, sir, thank you—nobly done, sir, nobly! Fifteen—fifteen —going at fifteen—speak up, gentlemen, it's the chance of your life. Going at fif—”

“Raise him ten,” whispered Mary.

—“teen—going at—”

“Twenty-five!”

It was another surprise. The house said to itself, “Now what's happened? is the widow going into the business?” The auctioneer shouted compliments, banged the anvil, played all the tricks of his trade for adding heat to a growing excitement—and meantime Mary whispered to the widow, “Go on—double his bids right along, until he stops.”

“Going—going—twenty-five, twenty-five—it's a great day!—give us another lift!—twen-ty five, twen—”

In her excitement, the widow doubled her own bid, crying out—Ⓐalteration in the MS

“Fifty!”Ⓐalteration in the MS

The house sent up a roar, long-drawn and powerful, and through the fog of it broke Charley Hall's clear voice—

“A hundred!”

“Im-mense! It's a wonderful day! Going—going—one hundred dol—”

“Two hundred!” from the widow.

“Three!” from Hall, who rose in his place, excited—Ⓐalteration in the MS

“Six hundred!” and the widow rose, and the house with her, storming its applause. It never occurred to anybody that this bid would bankrupt the widow, the house thought of nothing but the grand time it was having. Slowly it sank panting into its seat, and out of the expiring din the auctioneer's submerged voice began to rise to a hearing once more—

“Six—hundred—dollars! for the imperialest anvil that ever electrifiedⒶalteration in the MS the world—and worth every cent of it! Six hundred—going, going—do I hear seven? Seven am I bid? Going, going, at six—do I hear fifty? Six hundred, ladies and gentlemen—one more lift, just one more, only one —do I hear twenty-five? Going—going—last call! One—two—three—and g—”

“Nine hundred, b' George!”

It was Marsh; who sat, finely dramatic, with head up and arms folded across his breast above his valise. The house and the auctioneer gazed a moment, then an avalanche of derisive laughter swept the place. Presently the noise died down, and the auctioneer began a little speech, in his best vein—

“My friends and fellow-citizens, I need hardly say that this is the proudest moment of my life, and the most memorable. In concluding my duties, and in turning over this henceforth forever-renowned anvil to its fair purchaser, I—”

“I have outbid her,” observed Marsh, politely; “go on with the auction.”

The auctioneer withdrew his professional smile, and said with chill severity—

“Young man, you are not quite at yourself, and your behavior is unbecoming. Do not carry your joke further; the time is not suitable, it cannot be permitted.”

Many were sorry for Marsh, and this was a gratification to him—it made him a centre of attraction. He was happy, and he answered gall with sweetness:

“Go on with the show,” he said, blandly. “The other gentleman yonder” (Samson—the audience tittered) “and IⒶalteration in the MS are here for business; it isn't for fun. He thinks he wants this anvil,Ⓐalteration in the MS I think I want it. Now then, I can tell him one thing” (reaching into his valise) “if he gets it he'll grub for it, and don't you forget it!” He pulled out a thousand-dollar governmentⒶalteration in the MS bond, and passed it along. “Didn't I bid nine hundred? Charge it up to that piece of government paper, and go on with the show!”

In awe and silence the villagers passed the imposing document from hand to hand, reverently gazing upon it and lingering over it as it moved upon its course. The auctioneer received it, opened it, verified its genuineness, stared wonderingly upon it a while, then laid it tenderly down and said—

“Well—this whole occasion is more like a dream than anything I'veⒶalteration in the MS ever struck in the daytime since I was born. It's all justⒶalteration in the MS astonishers and surprises straight along from the start, and you never know where the lightning's going to hit next. I apologise sir—and honest.”

“All right, and no harm done, auctioneer—go right ahead.”

“With the greatest pleasure in the world. NineⒶalteration in the MS hundred—nine, going at nine,Ⓐalteration in the MS do I hear ten?—going at nine, do I hear ten—nine, do I hear the—”

“Thousand!” and Samson pulled a bond from his bosom and held it up.

“Five hundred!” from Marsh, before the auctioneer could speak.

“See it and raise you five!”

“Three Ⓐalteration in the MS thousand!” shouted Marsh.Ⓐalteration in the MS “Come on—now is your time, if you want the anvil!”

“But I'm out of bonds; I only had two, and so are you!” cried Samson.

“Nothing of the kind, I was fooling! Go on, auctioneer,Ⓐalteration in the MS I raise it to five thousand!”

“Five thousand—five, five—man, are you in earnest?”

“Go on, I tell you, I'm only just getting started. Make it ten!”

“Ten thousand dollars for the anvil—going, going, at ten thous—”

Marsh was on his feet, now, excited, gesticulating, bidding against himself with all his might, the auctioneer was going mad, the house was following suit.

“Ten thousand, ladies and gentlemen—going, going—will the gentleman say—”

“Yes!Ⓐalteration in the MS Fifty thousand—go it, auctioneer, turn yourself loose!”

“Fifty, fifty—it's a wonderful day!—going, going at fif—”

“Hundred thousand!”

“Hundred! going at a hundred, the greatⒶalteration in the MS High-yu-muckamuck-and-Whoopjamboree of all the anvils!—going, going at a hun—”

“Two hundred thousand!”

“Two hun—”

“Three! Four! Five! Six Ⓐalteration in the MS hundred thousand, and last bid—knock her down, auctioneer, and here's your mud!”Ⓐalteration in the MS

He unscooped his valise and emptied the bonds in a pile on the floor, then broke into a speech, and the audience hushed its clamorings to listen:

“It has all the look of a joke and a burlesque,” he said, “but at bottom it is quite sober earnest, as you shall see. The other gentleman yonder” (Samson—but the reference provokedⒶalteration in the MS no smile) “will pass to me the two bonds I lent him for the occasion—there, now they are where they belong, with the others. Let me tell you a little tale. My name is James Marsh. Ah—I seeⒶalteration in the MS by your faces that you have heard it before. That indicates that Thomas Hill has told you the first half of the tale already; very well, I will cut short and tell only the sequel—the half which neither you nor he knows about.

“When he left for the North, I went to work collecting, and had very good luck indeed, all things considered. As fast as I scraped the money in,Ⓐalteration in the MS I put it to work earning its living, in this and that and the other speculative way; and if I do say it myself, I made things hum. By and by came the blockade, and I was on hand and ready. Only in a small way, true,Ⓐalteration in the MS but I was there just the same. It was just a gamble—that's all it was—but I didn't like it any the less on that account.

“Sometimes I lost, sometimes I won, but I won oftener than I lost. Every now and then I got a scare, on Tom Hill's account, and had a bad night and a good deal of floor-walking, these being occasions when I was putting up the firm's whole capital on a single throw; but at lastⒶalteration in the MS I found a way to shut down on those worries and have peace. It was a pretty thin device, but it worked. That device was, to get my partner's consent, first Ⓐalteration in the MS, when I was proposing to bet the whole capital. How did I manage it—and him away up North? By flipping up a copper: heads, Tom is willing, tails he isn't. (Laughter.)Ⓐalteration in the MS It makes you laugh, and certainly it was pretty thin, but it worked. And I will say this for myself: whenever it went tails I was loyal to the arrangement; I said, to myself,Ⓐalteration in the MS ‘I think Tom's judgment is wrong, this time, but it's his right, and I'll not bet’—and I didn't.Ⓐemendation (Applause.) I didn't careⒶalteration in the MS what the temptation was, I always played squareⒶalteration in the MS with him, every time. Here is that old copper; I saved it for him, and I can pass it along to him, now, without a blush, for it's like himself—there isn't a stain on it. (Great applause.)

“Cotton was pretty kind to us. But by and by I concluded to go out of business, and I did. I've been out ever since, but I've kept the firm's capital well and safely placed. A monthⒶalteration in the MS or two ago the mails resumed, and I wrote Tom Hill and reported results, but my letter came back to South Carolina—his address wasn't known. So I came North to hunt him up, and I've found him.Ⓐalteration in the MS

“I found out, before I got here, that he was going to be sold out to-day and hadn't a cent. So for funⒶalteration in the MS I came as a tramp, and said to myself, ‘I know him; he'll not go back on me on account of my clothes; if I let on to be thirsty he'll pawn his coat for a bottle’—Ⓐemendationand that is whatⒶalteration in the MS he did, last night! (Great applause.)

“The tale is done. This anvil belongs to him. I've bought it for him with his own half of theⒶalteration in the MS money—six hundred thousand dollars in government bonds,Ⓐalteration in the MS gold 7 per cents—and here they lie!”

The applause burst upon him, wave after wave, and he uncovered and stood bowing, smiling, and entirely happy, for that was the kind of bath his dramatic soul delighted in. By and by when the tumult was dying down, criesⒶalteration in the MS arose, of—Ⓐemendation

“Hill! Hill! Speech, speech!”

Hill got up, enthusiastically welcomed, and stood a while, embarrassed, and strongly moved; then he got partial command of his voice, and said:

“I am not a speaker. I can't make a speech, but I ask you to say I was always loyal to him. You will bear me out in it—I always said I knew one Southerner that would pay his debts if he could, and now you see for yourselves. And I've known others, and said so, but you wouldn't believe me;Ⓐalteration in the MS but now you will.”

The response to his simple little speech was prompt and cordial, and he sat down a successful orator.

There was one other speech, but it was made later in the day, and in private. Uncle Jacob made it to Mary. He said:

“You've been a dam fool. You always was!”

Note. Sober history hardly contains aⒶalteration in the MS more beautiful incident than the gracious and enduring friendship which is the basis of this little tale. A few personsⒶalteration in the MS—a very few, for the episode is not widely known—Ⓐalteration in the MSwill recognize in Thomas Hill, Daniel Hand of New England, and in James Marsh,Ⓐemendation George W. Williams of South Carolina. I could have followed history, but have preferred to follow,Ⓐalteration in the MS instead, tradition, because of certain effective little details which it has gathered and added to the actualities in the course of its travels from mouth to mouth in New England in the past thirty-nine years. Tradition makes Hand a wandering and unlucky blacksmith who keeps pure in his heart and loyally upon his tongue his faith in his Southern friend, defending his probity against all scoffers and doubters; it makes Williams come North after the five years of separation caused by the war, and track Hand from village to village, month after month, until he finds him at last bankrupt in a remote hamlet and about to be sold out for a trifling debt; it makes him appear at the auction just at the right moment with a certified check for $600,000, drawn to Hand's order, which he shows to him and says, “It's all yours, old man—now watch me raise them out!”

Twenty-three years afterward (this is history) Mr. HandⒶalteration in the MS established theⒶalteration in the MS “Daniel Hand Educational Fund for Colored People,” and endowed it with interest-bearing securities to nearly the amount of eleven hundred thousand dollars. He has been dead many years, but his fundⒶalteration in the MS still lives, and its good work goes on. Its income for 1902 was $66,636, and in the same year it spent upon the cause in the South $66,577. (From the Official Report.)

Since writing the above tale a friend in America has procured for me a “Sketch of the Life of Daniel Hand,” prepared by Mr. George A. Wilcox, of Detroit, for the Magazine of American History, and from it I quote this eloquent passage:

“Rarely is there an instance of more implicit mutual commercial faith and confidence than is shown in these transactions; a faith preceding, living through and surviving a war that swept men and fortunes away like chaff, yet in this instance survived to point the moral that honesty and honor are not sectional but national American traits.”