remembered and added up, and remembered and subtracted,
the less I really knew. By the time that my fifth reckoning had
reduced our hoard to twenty-seven dollars I would gladly have gotten
up and counted the money again, but Jessie had it in charge and I did
not know where she kept it. It was small consolation in the desperate
state of uncertainty into which I had worked myself to reflect that I
had only myself to blame for this. Being a somewhat imaginative young
person, I had reasoned that if burglars were to break into the house
and demand to know the whereabouts of our hidden wealth it might be
possible for Jessie, who knew, to escape, taking her knowledge
with her, while I, who did not know, might safely stand by that
declaration. It was rather a far-fetched theory, but Jessie had
willingly subscribed to it. If not actually apprehensive of robbery,
she was, perhaps, more inclined to trust to her own quiet temper,
in a case of emergency, than to my warmer one. At the same time she
understood very well that I had an unusual talent for silence. It was
this talent that induced me to stay my hand late that night just as I
was on the point of rousing Jessie and asking her where she had put
the money. She was sleeping soundly and she was very tired.

"I'll count it all over the first thing in the morning," I thought;
and with the resolution, dropped off to sleep.

It was very late when I awoke. Ralph was still sleeping, but Jessie
had risen, and was moving quietly about the house. Above the slight
noise that she made I heard distinctly the pu-r--rr of falling
water, and knew that it was raining heavily. With the knowledge, the
recollection that Joe had gone came back to me with an unusual sense
of aggravation. Joe had always done the milking, and it had not rained
since he left. Dressing noiselessly, in order not to disturb Ralph, I
went out into the kitchen. Jessie looked up as I entered. "I'll help
you milk this morning, Leslie," she said. "It's too bad for you to
have to putter around in the rain while I'm dry in the house."

"There's no use in our both getting wet," I returned, ungraciously.
"You'd much better finish getting breakfast and keep watch of Ralph.
If he were to waken and find us both gone he'd probably start out a
relief expedition of one in any direction that took his fancy. He'd be
glad of the chance to get out in the rain."

"Who would have thought of its raining so soon when we came home last
night