xpress belief, that the Hilarys were sharing in
the booty. They were not cruel, and would not really have liked to see
the Northwick girls suffer, if it had come to that; but they were greedy
of the vengeance promised upon the wicked, and they had no fear of
judging or of meting with the fullest measure.

In the freer air of the streets and stores and offices, their husbands
were not so eager. In fact, it might be said that no man was eager but
Gerrish. After the first excitement, and the successive shocks of
sensation imparted by the newspapers had passed, there came over the men
of Hatboro' a sort of resignation which might or might not be regarded
as proof of a general demoralization. The defalcation had startled them,
but it could not be said to have surprised any one; it was to be
expected of a man in Northwick's position; it happened every day
somewhere, and the day had come when it should happen there. They did
not say God was good and that Mahomet was His prophet, but they were
fatalists all the same. They accepted the accomplished fact, and,
reflecting that the disaster did not really concern them, many of them
regarded it dispassionately, even jocosely. They did not care for a lot
of rich people in Boston who had been supplying Northwick with funds to
gamble in stocks; it was not as if the Hatboro' bank had been wrecked,
and hard-working folks had lost their deposits. They could look at the
matter with an impartial eye, and in their hearts they obscurely
believed that any member of the Ponkwasset Company would have done the
same thing as Northwick if he had got the chance. Beyond that they were
mostly interested in the question whether Northwick had perished in the
railroad accident, or had put up a job on the public, and was possessing
his soul in peace somewhere in Rogue's Rest, as Putney called the
Dominion of Canada. Putney represented the party in favor of Northwick's
survival; and Gates, the provision man, led the opposite faction. When
Putney dropped in to order his marketing, he usually said something
like, "Well, Joel, how's cremation, this morning?"

"Just booming, Squire. That stock's coming up, right along. Bound to be
worth a hundred cents on the dollar before hayin', yet." This, or
something like it, was what Gates usually answered, but one morning he
asked, "Heard how it stands with the Ponkwasset folks, I suppose? They
say--paper does--that the reason the president hung off from making a
compl