nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately into his
hand, whisper "To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening," then vanish
away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there might be one
claimant for the sack--doubtful, however, Goodson being dead--but it
never occurred to him that all this crowd might be claimants. When the
great Friday came at last, he found that he had nineteen envelopes.

III.

The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it was
backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the walls were
festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; the
supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress the
stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a large
degree he would be connected with the press. The house was full. The
412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs which had been
packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were occupied; some
distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; at the
horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform sat
a strong force of special correspondents who had come from everywhere. It
was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. There were some
tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases the ladies who
wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind of clothes. At
least the town thought they had that look, but the notion could have
arisen from the town's knowledge of the fact that these ladies had never
inhabited such clothes before.

The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform where
all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it with a
burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and pathetic
interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, lovingly,
proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying over to
themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness for the
audience's applause and congratulations which they were presently going
to get up and deliver. Every now and then one of these got a piece of
paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it to refresh his
memory.

Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always is; but
at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on the sack, he
could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. He re