ergency." But finally she decided to venture,
and she wrote off for the eggs, sending the money by a post-office order,
and Lucas brought up Silas Trent's incubator.

Friday night Trent drove up to Hillcrest and spent the evening with the
Brays. He set the incubator up in the little washhouse, which opened
directly off the back porch. It was a small, tight room, with only one
window, and was easily heated by an oil-lamp. The lamp of the incubator
itself would do the trick, Trent said.

He leveled the machine with great care, showed Lyddy all about the
trays, the water, the regulation of heat, and gave her a lot of advice
on various matters connected with the raising of chicks with the "wooden
hen."

They were all vastly interested in the new vocation and the evening passed
pleasantly enough. Just before Trent went, he asked:

"By the way, what's Jud Spink doing up this way so much? I seen him again
to-day when I came over the ridge. He was crossin' the back of your farm.
He didn't have no gun; and, at any rate, there ain't nothin' in season
jest now--'nless it's crows," and the mail-carrier laughed.

"Spink?" asked Mr. Bray, who had not yet gone to bed. "Who is he?"

"Lemuel Judson Spink," explained 'Phemie. "He's a man who used to live
here with grandfather when he was a boy--when _Spink_ was a boy; not
grandfather."

"He's a rich man now," said Lyddy. "He owns a breakfast food."

"Diamond Grits," added 'Phemie.

"He's rich enough," grunted Trent. "Rich enough so't he can loaf around
Bridleburg for months at a time. Been here now for some time."

"Why, could that be the Spink your Aunt Jane told me once made her an
offer for the farm?" asked Mr. Bray, thoughtfully.

"For Hillcrest?" cried 'Phemie. "Oh, I hope not."

"Well, child, if she could sell the place it would be a good thing for
Jane. She has none too much money."

"But why didn't she sell to him?" asked Lyddy, quite as anxious as her
sister.

"He didn't offer her much, if anything, for it."

"Ain't that like Jud?" cackled Trent. "He is allus grouching about the
old doctor for being as tight as the bark to a tree; but when it comes
to a bargain, Jud Spink will wring yer nose ev'ry time--if he can. Glad
Mis' Hammon' didn't sell to him."

"Perhaps he didn't want Hillcrest very much," said Mr. Bray, quietly.

"He don't want nothin' 'nless it's cheap," declared Trent. "He's picked up
some mortgage notes, and the like, on property he thinks he can