silver on it. Divining her intent, Uncle John strove
to hold fast his individual spoon, but she twitched it without
ceremony out from his rheumatic old fingers, and ran next to the
parlor cupboard, wherein lay her movable treasures.

"What in the world shall I do with them?" she cried, returning with
her apron well filled, and borne down by the weight thereof.

"Give 'em to me," cried Joe. "Here's a basket. Drop 'em in, and I'll
run like a brush-fire through the town and across the old bridge, and
hide 'em as safe as a weasel's nap."

Joe's fingers were creamy; his mouth was half filled with Johnny-cake,
and his pocket on the right bulged to its utmost capacity with the
same, as he held forth the basket; but the little woman was afraid to
trust him, as she had been afraid to trust her neighbors.

"No! No!" she replied, to his repeated offers. "I know what I'll do.
You, Joe Devins, stay right where you are until I come back, and,
don't you even _look_ out of the window."

"Dear, dear me!" she cried, flushed and anxious when she was out of
sight of Uncle John and Joe. "I _wish_ I'd given 'em to Colonel
Barrett when he was here before daylight, only, I _was_ afraid I
should never get sight of them again."

She drew off one of her stockings, filled it, tied the opening at the
top with a string--plunged stocking and all into a pail full of water
and proceeded to pour the contents into the well.

Just as the dark circle had closed over the blue stocking, Joe Devins'
face peered down the depths by her side, and his voice sounded out the
words: "O Mother Moulton, the British will search the wells the _very_
first thing. Of course, they _expect_ to find things in wells!"

"Why didn't you tell me before, Joe? but now it is too late."

"I would, if I had known what you was going to do; they'd been a sight
safer in the honey tree."

"Yes, and what a fool I've been--flung _my watch_ into the well with
the spoons!"

"Well, well! Don't stand there, looking!" as she hovered over the high
curb, with her hand on the bucket. "Everybody will know, if you do."

"Martha! Martha!" shrieked Uncle John's quavering voice from the house
door.

"Bless my heart!" she exclaimed, hurrying back over the stones.

"What's the matter with your heart?" questioned Joe.

"Nothing. I was thinking of Uncle John's money," she answered.

"Has he got money?" cried Joe. "I thought he was poor, and you took
care of him because you were so good!"