en I lay claim to it. I'm his only relation, and it is right that I
should have it."

"You shall have it if you will pay the expense of his illness."

"Humph! how much did he leave?"

"Thirty-seven cents."

Mr. Tripp looked discomfited.

"You can keep it," he said, magnanimously. "I don't lay no claim to
it."

"Thank you," returned Chester, gravely.

"Then this five-dollar bill didn't come from him?"

"How could it? he hadn't as much money in the world."

"He was a shif'less man. 'A rolling stone gathers no moss,'" observed
Mr. Tripp, in a moralizing tone.

"You haven't been a rolling stone, Mr. Tripp."

"No; I've stuck to the store year in and year out for thirty-five
years. I ain't had more'n three days off in that time."

"If I had your money, Mr. Tripp, I'd go off and enjoy myself."

"What, and leave the store?" said Silas, aghast at the thought.

"You could hire some one to run it."

"I wouldn't find much left when I came back; No, I must stay at home
and attend to business. Do your folks go to bed early, Chester?"

"Not before ten," answered Chester, in some surprise.

"Then I'll call this evenin' after the store is closed."

"Very well, sir. You'll find us up."

The idea had occurred to Mr. Tripp that Mrs. Rand must be very short of
money, and might be induced to dispose of her place at a largely
reduced figure. It would be a good-paying investment for him, and he
was not above taking advantage of a poor widow's necessities. Of course
neither Mrs. Rand nor Chester had any idea of his motives or
intentions, and they awaited his visit with considerable curiosity.

About fifteen minutes after nine a shuffling was heard at the door,
there was a knock, and a minute later Chester admitted the thin and
shriveled figure of Silas Tripp.

"Good-evening, Mr. Tripp," said Mrs. Rand, politely.

"Good-evenin', ma'am, I thought I'd call in and inquire how you were
gettin' along."

"Thank you, Mr. Tripp, for the interest you show in our affairs. We are
not doing very well, as you may imagine."

"So I surmised, ma'am. So I surmised."

"It can't be possible he is going to offer us a loan," thought Chester.

"You've got a tidy little place here, ma'am. It isn't mortgaged, I
rec'on."

"No, Sir."

"Why don't you sell it? You need the money, and you might hire another
house, or pay rent for this."

"Do you know of anyone that wants to buy it, Mr. Tripp?"

"Mebbe I'd buy it myself, jest to help yo