ard
on the box of one of his animal cages, pulled out a huge bag containing
something that kicked and wriggled, and deposited his burden on the
barn floor.

"Now," said he, brusquely, "business before pleasure! You've got the
stakes, eh, Wixon?"

"In my wallet here--a thousand dollars," replied the keeper, a little
catch in his voice at thought of the fortune next his anxious heart.

"And the best hen takes the money; no flummery, no filigree!" put
in Reeves.

Hiram was kneeling beside his agitated bag, and was picking at the
knots in its fastening. "This will be a hen-fight served up Smyrna
style," he said, grimly. "And, as near as I can find out, that style
is mostly--scrambled!"

"I've got a favor to ask," stammered Wixon, hesitatingly. "It don't
mean much to you, but it means a good deal to others. Bein' penned
up on a poor-farm, with nothin' except three meals a day to take up
your mind, is pretty tough on them as have seen better days. I'll
leave it to Cap'n Sproul, here, if I ain't tried to put a little
kindness and human feelin' into runnin' this place, and--"

Hiram was untying the last knot. "Spit out what you're drivin' at,"
he cried bluntly; "this ain't no time for sideshow barkin'. The big
show is about to begin."

"I want to invite in the boys," blurted Wixon. And when they blinked
at him amazedly, he said:

"The five old fellers that's here, I mean. They're safe and mum, and
they're jest dyin' for a little entertainment, and it's only kindness
to them that's unfortunate, if you--"

"What do you think this is, a livin'-picture show got up to amuse
a set of droolin' old paupers?" demanded Hiram, with heat.

"Well, as it is, they suspect suthin'," persisted Wixon. "All they
have to do to pass time is to suspect and projick on what's goin'
on and what's goin' to happen. If you'll let me bring 'em, I can shet
their mouths. If they don't come in, they're goin' to suspect suthin'
worse than what it is--and that's only human natur'--and not to blame
for it."

The two selectmen protested, official alarm in their faces, but Hiram
suddenly took the keeper's side, after the manner of his impetuous
nature, and after he had shrewdly noted that Reeves seemed to be most
alarmed.

"I'm the challenger," he roared. "I've got something to say. Bring
'em, Wixon. Let 'em have a taste of fun. I may wind up on the poor-farm
myself. Bring 'em in. There's prob'ly more sportin' blood in the
paupers of this town th