Ducklow
might by that time be at home: then the sale of old papers would be very
likely to take place. Ducklow thought of leaving word that he did not
wish any old papers in the house to be sold, but feared lest the request
might excite Taddy's suspicions.

"I don't see no way but for me to take the bonds with me," thought he,
with an inward groan.

He accordingly went to the garret, took the envelope out of the trunk,
and placed it in the breast-pocket of his overcoat, to which he pinned
it, to prevent it by any chance from getting out. He used six large,
strong pins for the purpose, and was afterwards sorry he did not use
seven.

"There's suthin' losin' out of yer pocket!" bawled Taddy, as he was once
more mounting the wagon.

Quick as lightning, Ducklow clapped his hand to his breast. In doing so,
he loosed his hold of the wagon-box and fell, raking his shin badly on
the wheel.

"Yer side-pocket! it's one o' yer mittens!" said Taddy.

"You rascal! how you scared me!"

Seating himself in the wagon, Ducklow gently pulled up his trousers-leg
to look at the bruised part.

"Got anything in yer boot-leg to-day, Pa Ducklow?" asked Taddy,
innocently.

"Yes, a barked shin!--all on your account, too! Go and put that straw
back, and fix the carpet; and don't ye let me hear ye speak of my
boot-leg again, or I'll _boot-leg_ ye!"

So saying, Ducklow departed.

Instead of repairing the mischief he had done in the sitting-room, Taddy
devoted his time and talents to the more interesting occupation of
constructing his kite-frame. He worked at that, until Mr. Grantley, the
minister, driving by, stopped to inquire how the folks were.

"A'n't to home: may I ride?" cried Taddy, all in a breath.

Mr. Grantley was an indulgent old gentleman, fond of children; so he
said, "Jump in"; and in a minute Taddy had scrambled to a seat by his
side.

And now occurred a circumstance which Ducklow had foreseen. The alarm of
fire had reached Reuben's; and although the report of its falseness
followed immediately, Mrs. Ducklow's inflammable fancy was so kindled by
it that she could find no comfort in prolonging her visit.

"Mr. Ducklow'll be going for the trunk, and I _must_ go home and see to
things, Taddy's _such_ a fellow for mischief! I can foot it; I sha'n't
mind it."

And off she started, walking herself out of breath in her anxiety.

She reached the brow of the hill just in time to see a chaise drive away
from her own door