e ain't nothing more to do," replied Mr. Fairfield, who only
desired that the neighbors would leave, so that he could assure himself
of the safety of his gold.

They did go, without even the thanks of the miser. Levi was in the
kitchen with Mrs. Fairfield, trying to make out how the fire had
caught.

"Sech a piece of work, massy knows!" exclaimed the old lady, as she
looked about her in dismay at the water which was still dripping down
from above. "It'll take a whole month to put things to rights agin. I
can't tell, for the life of me, how it ketched."

"You had a large fire in the oven, aunt," suggested Levi.

"But the fire in the oven didn't set the ruff afire! Sunthin was the
matter with that chimbly, and your uncle fixed it e'enamost a month
ago. I don't know nothin' what he did to it. Mebbe there was a hole in
that chimbly--For massy sake! What's comin' now!"

This exclamation had been brought from her by a loud, despairing howl
from her husband, who at this moment rushed into the kitchen, with such
a look of anguish on his face that it frightened Bessie.

"O, my money!" groaned the wretched man.

"For pity's sake, husband, what's the matter?" cried Mrs. Fairfield.

"It's all gone!" gasped uncle Nathan.

"What's all gone?"

"The money!" he replied in a whisper.

His nature could endure no more. He tottered on his legs, and Levi
sprang to his assistance just as he dropped senseless on the floor.

CHAPTER III.

THE HOLE IN THE WALL.

As soon as Dock Vincent and Mat Mogmore had left the house, Mr.
Fairfield procured a case-knife,--for he was not the owner of so useful
an implement as a screw-driver,--and, with trembling anxiety, removed
the board that covered the hole in the wall. Thrusting his hand down
into the aperture, a cold chill swept through his frame when he failed
to touch the bags in which the gold was contained. With convulsive
energy, he felt in every part of the cavity; but the money had surely
taken to itself wings and flown away.

Had all the human beings upon the earth been suddenly destroyed before
his eyes, the effect upon the miser could not have been more
deplorable. He loved his money; he did not love his fellow-beings. His
heart almost ceased to beat beneath the shock, his lip quivered, and
the tears started in his eyes. His brain began to reel before the blow;
he uttered a prolonged howl, and rushed out into the kitchen rather
from impulse than because he desired or e