rowning darkly at the
fire.

"How much?" and Jill's ready hand went to the pocket where her little
purse lay, for she felt rich with several presents lately made her.

"Two seventy-five. No, thank you, I won't borrow."

"What is it for?"

"Can't tell."

"Why, I thought you told me everything."

"Sorry, but I can't this time. Don't you worry; I shall think of
something."

"Couldn't your mother help?"

"Don't wish to ask her."

"Why! can't _she_ know?"

"Nobody can."

"How queer! Is it a scrape, Jack?" asked Jill, looking as curious as a
magpie.

"It is likely to be, if I can't get out of it this week, somehow."

"Well, I don't see how I can help if I'm not to know anything;" and Jill
seemed rather hurt.

"You can just stop asking questions, and tell me how a fellow can earn
some money. That would help. I've got one dollar, but I must have some
more;" and Jack looked worried as he fingered the little gold dollar on
his watch-guard.

"Oh, do you mean to use that?"

"Yes, I do; a man must pay his debts if he sells all he has to do it,"
said Jack sternly.

"Dear me; it must be something very serious." And Jill lay quite still
for five minutes, thinking over all the ways in which Jack ever did earn
money, for Mrs. Minot liked to have her boys work, and paid them in some
way for all they did.

"Is there any wood to saw?" she asked presently, being very anxious to
help.

"All done."

"Paths to shovel?"

"No snow."

"Lawn to rake, then?"

"Not time for that yet."

"Catalogue of books?"

"Frank got that job."

"Copy those letters for your mother?"

"Take me too long. Must have my money Friday, if possible."

"I don't see what we can do, then. It is too early or too late for
everything, and you won't borrow."

"Not of you. No, nor of any one else, if I can possibly help it. I've
promised to do this myself, and I will;" and Jack wagged his head
resolutely.

"Couldn't you do something with the printing-press? Do me some cards,
and then, perhaps, the other girls will want some," said Jill, as a
forlorn hope.

"Just the thing! What a goose I was not to think of it. I'll rig the old
machine up at once." And, starting from his seat, Jack dived into the
big closet, dragged out the little press, and fell to oiling, dusting,
and putting it in order, like one relieved of a great anxiety.

"Give me the types; I'll sort them and set up my name, so you can begin
as soon as you are ready. You kno