to my benefactor thus
identified."

Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was soon
lost in thinkings--after this pattern: "What a strange thing it is! . . .
And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon the
waters! . . . If it had only been my husband that did it!--for we are so
poor, so old and poor! . . ." Then, with a sigh--"But it was not my
Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a
pity too; I see it now. . . " Then, with a shudder--"But it is
_gamblers_' money! the wages of sin; we couldn't take it; we couldn't
touch it. I don't like to be near it; it seems a defilement." She moved
to a farther chair. . . "I wish Edward would come, and take it to the
bank; a burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all
alone with it."

At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying "I am _so_
glad you've come!" he was saying, "I am so tired--tired clear out; it is
dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal journeys at my time of
life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on a salary--another man's
slave, and he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and comfortable."

"I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we have
our livelihood; we have our good name--"

"Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don't mind my talk--it's just a
moment's irritation and doesn't mean anything. Kiss me--there, it's all
gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been getting?
What's in the sack?"

Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; then
he said:

"It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it's for-ty thou-sand
dollars--think of it--a whole fortune! Not ten men in this village are
worth that much. Give me the paper."

He skimmed through it and said:

"Isn't it an adventure! Why, it's a romance; it's like the impossible
things one reads about in books, and never sees in life." He was well
stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the
cheek, and said humorously, "Why, we're rich, Mary, rich; all we've got
to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever
comes to inquire, we'll merely look coldly upon him and say: 'What is
this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and your sack
of gold before;' and then he would look foolish, and--"

"And in the meantime, while you are running on w