"Ye don’t tell! Why, I thought she got money from the company when her husband was killed."
"H’m, Lawyer Rackshaw got most of it, accordin’ to what she told me only yesterday."
"He did! The skunk! An’ him smokin’ half a dozen ten-cent cigars every day. It’s a wonder she never squealed on him."
"Oh, that’s jist like her. She wouldn’t have told me yesterday if I hadn’t pumped it out of her. She’s a game one, all right. But I do pity the poor little kids. I don’t know what’s to become of them."
"Five, I guess. The little chap who died was the youngest, an’ he was only three."
"My, my!" Abner sighed, while an expression of sincere sympathy came into his eyes. "What de ye s’pose kin be done fer ’em?"
"Don’t know, unless we kin git them into that Orphan Home."
"Why, you ought to know," and Zeb looked up from his work. "You gave a thousand dollars to it, didn’t ye?"
"A thousand be hanged! I didn’t give a red cent."
"So I thought. Jist hold these boards together, will ye?"
Abner at once obeyed, and after Zeb had driven in two nails, he straightened himself up, and looked at his companion.
"You never intended to give a thousand to that Home, did ye?" he asked.
"Not altogether, but next door to one, I should say."
"Ye’ve got a darn lot of gall," Abner retorted. "Ye must have inherited it from one of the Lost Tribes, didn’t ye?"
"Never mind the Lost Tribes now, Abner. You know what I say is true. You’re no more able to give a thousand dollars to that Home than I am to buy out the whole of Glucom. How in the world de ye expect to git out of the scrape, anyway? Ye’ll be the laughin’-stock of everyone."
"Never you mind, Zeb, how I’ll git out of it. I’ll square up all right, so ye needn’t bust any button off about it. I know a wrinkle or two."
"Ye’ll have to git a hustle on, then, if them Denton kids are to be helped."
Abner took three or four steps across the room, and then stopped and looked out of the door. Presently he turned and watched Zebedee for a few seconds.
"How much de ye expect to git fer that job?" he suddenly asked.
"Jist as much as you’d expect, an’ that’s nuthin’," was the quick reply.
Abner’s right hand was now in his trousers pocket, firmly gripping the ten dollar bill which had been given to him by the agent. Then he drew it forth, and flung it upon the work-bench.
