e a judicious use
of her income; but Harry soon interrupted the arguments, with the remark
that they had better not bother themselves about what Aunt Matilda
should do with her money when she got it, until they had found out some
way of preventing her from starving to death while she was waiting for
it.

This was evidently good common sense, but it put a damper on the spirits
of the Board.

There was nothing new to be said on the main question, and it was now
growing toward supper-time; so the meeting adjourned.

On their way home, Harry said to Kate, "Has Aunt Matilda anything to eat
at all?"

"Oh yes; she has enough for her supper to-night, and for breakfast, too,
if nobody comes to see her. But that's all."

"All right, then," said Harry.

"I don't think it is all right," replied Kate. "What's two meals, I'd
like to know?"

"Two meals are very good things, provided you don't take them both at
once," said Harry. And he began to whistle.

The next day, Harry went off and staid until dinner-time.

Kate could not imagine where he had gone. He was not with the Board, she
knew, for Harvey Davis had been inquiring for him.

Just before dinner he made his appearance.

Kate was in the house, but he hurried her out under the catalpa-tree.

"Look here!" said he, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out
several "greenbacks." "I reckon that'll keep Aunt Matilda until the
company begins to make money."

Kate opened her eyes their very widest.

"Why, where on earth did you get all that money, Harry? Is it yours?"

"Of course it's mine," said Harry. "I sold my gun."

"Oh, Harry!" and the tears actually came into Kate's eyes.

"Well, I wouldn't cry about it," said Harry. "There's nothing to shoot
now; and when we get rich I can buy it back again, or get another."

"Got rich!" said Kate. "I don't see how we're going to do that;
especially when it's such dreadfully dry weather."

CHAPTER XXII.

A QUANDARY.

About a week after the meeting of the Board in the Davis corn-house, old
Miles, the mail-rider, came galloping up to Mr. Loudon's front gate. The
family were at breakfast, but Harry and Kate jumped up and ran to the
door, when they saw Miles coming, with his saddle-bags flapping behind
him. No one had ever before seen Miles ride so fast. A slow trot, or
rather a steady waddle, was the pace that he generally preferred.

"Hello, Mah'sr Harry," shouted old Miles, "de creek's up! Can't git
acro