m such an odd part of an outfit
for a journey of this kind.

"How much money was in it?"

"That I cannot say, exactly. I happen to remember four twenty-dollar
United States notes, and a roll of small bills, perhaps something over a
hundred dollars."

"Is that the pocket-book?" asked David Thomas, slowly pulling the loved
and lost out of his trousers pocket.

"It is."

"You'd be willing to take your oath on it?"

"I should be delighted to."

"Well, I guess there ain't so much money in it. You can count it
[handing it over]; there hain't been nothing taken out. I can't read,
but my friend here counted it over, and he says there ain't as much as
that."

Intense interest in the result of the counting. One hundred and ten
dollars! The Friend selected one of the best engraved of the notes, and
appealed to the crowd if they thought that was the square thing to do.
They did so think, and David Thomas said it was abundant. And then said
the Friend:

"I'm exceedingly grateful to you besides. Washington's hair is getting
scarce, and I did not want to lose these few hairs, gray as they are.
You've done the honest thing, Mr. Thomas, as was expected of you. You
might have kept the whole. But I reckon if there had been five hundred
dollars in the book and you had kept it, it wouldn't have done you half
as much good as giving it up has done; and your reputation as an honest
man is worth a good deal more than this pocket-book. [The Professor
was delighted with this sentiment, because it reminded him of a
Sunday-school.] I shall go away with a high opinion of the honesty of
Mitchell County."

"Oh, he lives in Yancey," cried two or three voices. At which there was
a great laugh.

"Well, I wondered where he came from." And the Mitchell County people
laughed again at their own expense, and the levee broke up. It was
exceedingly gratifying, as we spread the news of the recovered property
that afternoon at every house on our way to the Toe, to see what
pleasure it gave. Every man appeared to feel that the honor of the
region had been on trial--and had stood the test.

The eighteen miles to Burnsville had now to be added to the morning
excursion, but the travelers were in high spirits, feeling the truth of
the adage that it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have
lost at all. They decided, on reflection, to join company with the
mail-rider, who was going to Burnsville by the shorter route, and could
pilot them ov