l's whim. Good night."

The moment his foot was off the last step of the porch she hurried to
her room in the cottage and secured a little packet from her portfolio.

She heard the thud of his dory oars as she walked down the street. She
was glad to know that he was safely out of the way.

Rowley's dingy windows shed a dim blur upon the frosty night. It was
near time for him to close his store, and when she entered he was
turning out the loafers who had been cuddling close to his barrel stove.

After a few moments of waiting the girl was alone with him.

"No, I don't want to buy anything, Mr. Rowley. I need your help. I ask
you to help me to do a good deed."

He pulled his spectacles to the end of his nose and stared at her
doubtfully and with curiosity.

"If it's about the schooner, I'd rather do business with men-folks," he
said.

"This is business that only you and I can do, and it must be a secret
between us. Will you please glance at this bank-book?"

He licked a thin finger and turned the leaves.

"Deposit of five thousand dollars and accrued interest," he observed,
resuming his inquisitive inspection of her animated countenance.

"My mother's sister left me that legacy. It's all my little fortune,
sir. I want to loan that money to my father and Captain Mayo."

"Well, go ahead, if you're fool enough to. I ain't your guardeen,"
assented Deacon Rowley, holding the book out to her. "But I advise you
to keep your money. I know all about their foolishness."

"My father wouldn't take it from me--and Captain Mayo wouldn't, either."

"That shows they ain't rogues on top of being fools."

"But I have faith that they can succeed and make a lot of money if they
get a start," she insisted. "I see you do not understand, sir, what I
need of you. I want you to lend them that money, just as if it came from
you. I'll give you the book and a writing, and you can draw it."

"No, ma'am."

"Won't you help a girl who needs help so much? You're a Christian man,
you say."

"That's just why I can't lie about this money. I'll have to tell 'em I'm
lending it."

"You will be lending it."

"How's that, miss?"

"For your trouble in the matter I'll let you collect the interest for
yourself at six per cent. Oh, Deacon Rowley, all you need to do is hand
over the money, and say you prefer not to talk about it. You're a smart
business man; you'll know what to say without speaking a falsehood.
You'll break my heart if you r