ts 'em out of the draw an' jest marches into the back room
an' puts the dum things int' the fire."

"He done jest right," declared Aunt Polly, "an' you know it, don't ye
now?"

"Wa'al," said David, "f'm his standpoint--f'm his standpoint, I guess he
did, an'," rubbing his chin with two fingers of his left hand, "it's a
putty dum good standpoint too. I've ben lookin'," he added reflectively,
"fer an honest man fer quite a number o' years, an' I guess I've found
him; yes'm, I guess I've found him."

"An' be you goin' to let him lose that fifteen dollars?" asked the
practical Polly, fixing her brother with her eyes.

"Wa'al," said David, with a short laugh, "what c'n I do with such an
obst'nit critter 's he is? He jest backed into the britchin', an' I
couldn't do nothin' with him." Aunt Polly sat over her sewing for a
minute or two without taking a stitch.

"I'm sorry you done it," she said at last.

"I dunno but I did make ruther a mess of it," admitted Mr. Harum.

CHAPTER XVII.

It was the 23d of December, and shortly after the closing hour. Peleg
had departed and our friend had just locked the vault when David came
into the office and around behind the counter.

"Be you in any hurry?" he asked.

John said he was not, whereupon Mr. Harum hitched himself up onto a high
office stool, with his heels on the spindle, and leaned sideways upon
the desk, while John stood facing him with his left arm upon the desk.

"John," said David, "do ye know the Widdo' Cullom?"

"No" said John, "but I know who she is--a tall, thin woman, who walks
with a slight stoop and limp. I noticed her and asked her name because
there was something about her looks that attracted my attention--as
though at some time she might have seen better days."

"That's the party," said David. "She has seen better days, but she's eat
an' drunk sorro' mostly fer goin' on thirty year, an' darned little else
good share o' the time, I reckon."

"She has that appearance certainly," said John.

"Yes sir," said David, "she's had a putty tough time, the widdo' has,
an' yet," he proceeded after a momentary pause, "the' was a time when
the Culloms was some o' the king-pins o' this hull region. They used to
own quarter o' the county, an' they lived in the big house up on the
hill where Doc Hays lives now. That was considered to be the finest
place anywheres 'round here in them days. I used to think the Capitol to
Washington must be somethin' like the