n' Polly c'n prink up
some if you want to, but we can't take 'No' fer an answer Chris'must
day, clo'es or no clo'es."

"I'd really like ter," said Mrs. Cullom.

"All right then," said David cheerfully. "The path is swep' by this
time, I guess, an' I'll see ye later. Oh, by the way," he exclaimed,
"the's somethin' I fergot. I want to make you a proposition, ruther an
onusual one, but seem' ev'rythin' is as 't is, perhaps you'll consider
it."

"Dave," declared the widow, "if I could, an' you ast for it, I'd give ye
anythin' on the face o' this mortal globe!"

"Wa'al," said David, nodding and smiling, "I thought that mebbe, long 's
you got the int'rist of that investment we ben talkin' about, you'd let
me keep what's left of the princ'pal. Would ye like to see it?"

Mrs. Cullom looked at him with a puzzled expression without replying.

David took from his pocket a large wallet, secured by a strap, and,
opening it, extracted something enveloped in a much faded brown paper.
Unfolding this, he displayed upon his broad fat palm an old silver dime
black with age.

"There's the cap'tal," he said.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V

"Why, Mis' Cullom, I'm real glad to see ye. Come right in," said Mrs.
Bixbee as she drew the widow into the "wing settin' room," and proceeded
to relieve her of her wraps and her bundle. "Set right here by the fire
while I take these things of your'n into the kitchen to dry 'em out.
I'll be right back"; and she bustled out of the room. When she came back
Mrs. Cullom was sitting with her hands in her lap, and there was in her
eyes an expression of smiling peace that was good to see.

Mrs. Bixbee drew up a chair, and seating herself, said: "Wa'al, I don't
know when I've seen ye to git a chance to speak to ye, an' I was real
pleased when David said you was goin' to be here to dinner. An' my! how
well you're lookin'--more like Cynthy Sweetland than I've seen ye fer I
don't know when; an' yet," she added, looking curiously at her guest,
"you 'pear somehow as if you'd ben cryin'."

"You're real kind, I'm sure," responded Mrs. Cullom, replying to the
other's welcome and remarks _seriatim_; "I guess, though, I don't look
much like Cynthy Sweetland, if I do feel twenty years younger 'n I did a
while ago; an' I have ben cryin', I allow, but not fer sorro', Polly
Harum," she exclaimed, giving the other her maiden name. "Your brother
Dave comes putty nigh to bein' an angel!"

"Wa'al," replied Mrs