been too much overcome by careful watching
at his bedside and grief to write, but she had sent the carriage over
for the Wrinkles, whom she wished to attend the funeral. She wanted them
to bring a good many things to wear, as they might have to stay some
time to keep her company in her loneliness.

When Ned had driven his horses around the house to be fed and watered
and rubbed down, and Mrs. Wrinkle, uttering a fusillade of meaningless
ejaculations and puffs of gratified horror, had disappeared in the house
to pack, old Jason made a wry face and squinted comically at Henley. "I
reckon Het wasn't too much overcome to keep 'er from shufflin' 'er cards
in her little poker game with you. You notice she didn't include you in
the invite. I reckon she still feels sore over that buggy-ride that went
crooked, an' has decided that you sha'n't take part in any festivities
that she has anything to do with. I like to stay with you, Alf, as well
as I would with any feller, but the change to that fine place won't be
bad. I'll have a good time, takin' it all in all. Ben has--or had,
rather--a fine mansion that is well stocked with grub, an' some nigger
women that can prepare stuff to a queen's taste. If Het don't take
charge of the pantry, there'll be enough to go around an' plenty over.
But we'll see, we'll see."

That afternoon, as Henley and Cahews sat in the front part of the store,
the carriage passed on its way over the mountain. Wrinkle and his demure
spouse, in their very best clothing, sat on the luxurious leather
cushions in the rear, and Wrinkle was smiling broadly and waving parting
signals at them. The carriage had passed on, and was about to turn into
the first street leading mountainward, when Wrinkle was seen to reach
forward and clutch the driver's arm. He gave some command, and the
horses were reined in and Wrinkle got out, and as he busied himself
rubbing something from the lapel of his broadcloth coat he walked with
rather uncertain gait to the store.

"Say, Alf," he began, as he ascended the steps to the porch, "if it's
agreeable to you, I'd like to have a dollar for pocket-change. Het's
pretty liberal, as a general thing, but Ned says she's powerful upset
over her loss, an' I'd sorter hate to tackle 'er the fust day we are
over thar, an' I know, in reason, I'll need a few nickels to drop here
an' thar."

"Get it for him, Jim," Henley ordered, and, while Cahews was at the
cash-drawer, Wrinkle went round the co