the genial warmth.

The table was neatly set for supper. There was a platter of cold
prairie chicken, a glass dish containing wild-plum sauce, and a plate
of biscuit; while on the stove hearth stood a white tureen, holding a
few slices of hot toast.

Mrs. Cowles, having been informed by her liege lord that her presence
was not desired at that particular hour, had gladly improved the
opportunity to take a cup of tea with her friend Mrs. Barker, and
learn the particulars concerning the accident that happened to Bill
Walker and Maria Hobbs the night before, who, while returning from a
log-house dance, six miles away, were upset from the wagon into Slough
Creek. Mrs. Cowles dearly loved a dish of gossip, which, smoking hot
and seasoned to one's taste, was always to be had at Mrs. Barker's.

The Cowles were a money-loving and money-getting race, from the least
of them to the greatest; and Mr. Charles Cowles was not a whit behind
the shrewdest of them in this respect.

It was a stormy afternoon in March, and the winds, which, like troops
of wild horses, came careering across the prairies, and charged upon
the money-lender's "framed" house, furiously whirled the snow, and
made shrill, wintry music. Mr. Cowles added more fuel to the fire,
reseated himself, put his feet into a chair, and fell into a deep
study.

He was the moneyed man of the place, and, although comparatively a
new comer, was the autocrat of the settlement. His first visit to the
town, "prospecting," caused considerable commotion; for if the
groves and prairies had been arranged on the plan of a vast
whispering-gallery, the fact that he had a golden purse could
scarcely have circulated more rapidly. Many prophesied he would not
condescend to dwell in so small a town--a surmise that seemed the
more probable from his haughty, overbearing carriage. And when it
was certain that he had bought out the best of the two stores, and
carpenters were set to work building a large addition to the
grocery, and teams arrived from the Mississippi loaded with barrels
and boxes of goods, there was general congratulation. The town will
go ahead now, the settlers said; men of capital are beginning to
come in, and land is sure to rise.

But Mr. Cowles did not pitch his tent there for the benefit of the
public, as the public soon had reason to know. He invested nothing in
"improvements," but simply kept his stock replenished, selling at the
high frontier prices, giving credit