ghtened laboriously again, the boy's
usual weekly packet of papers and catalogues in one hand.

"No," he emphasized deliberately, "I wouldn't really go so fur's
that--I ain't figgerin' on makin' no complaint--not this time. I got
too much regard for the Judge to try to get him into any hot water.
But there wa'n't no real use nor reason in his postin' all them
invitations to once. He could a-begun back a stretch and kinda run 'em
in easy, a little to a time, instead of lumpin' 'em this way, and that
would a-give me----"

Young Denny reached out and took the bundle from the extended,
unsteady old hand. His own hands were shaking a little as he broke the
string and fluttered swiftly through the half dozen papers and
pamphlets. Old Jerry never skipped a breath at the interruption.

"But that finishes up the day--that's about the last of it." The
thin voice became heavily tinged with pride. "There ain't nobody in
the township but what's got his card to that barn-raising by
now--delivered right on the nail! That's my system." And then,
judiciously: "I guess it's a-goin' to be a real fancy affair, too,
at that. Must be it'll cost him more'n a little mite before he gits
done feedin' 'em. They was a powerful lot of them invitations."

Slowly Denny Bolton's head lifted. He stood and stared into Old
Jerry's peaked, wrinkled face as if he had only half heard the
rambling complaint, a strange, bewildered light growing in his eyes.
Then his gaze dropped once more, and a second time, far more slowly,
his fingers went through the packet of advertisements. Old Jerry was
leaning over to unwind the reins from the whipstock when the boy's
hand reached out and stopped him.

"Ain't there--wasn't there anything more for me--tonight?" Young Denny
inquired gravely.

Jerry paused impatiently. No other question ever caused him quite such
keen irritation, for he felt that it was a slur at his reliability.

"More!" he petulantly echoed the question. "More? Why, you got your
paper, ain't you? Was you expectin' sunthin' else? Wasn't looking for
a letter, now was you?"

Denny backed slowly away from the wheel. Dumbly he stood and licked
his lips. He cleared his throat again and swallowed hard before he
answered.

"No," he faltered at last, with the same level gravity. "No, I wasn't
exactly expectin' a letter. But I kind of thought--I--I was just
hopin'----"

His grave voice trailed heavily off into silence. Eyes still numbly
bewildered h