tle pile of coins as if fascinated.

"I am so glad the dear boy is doing well," said Mrs. Nelson.

"Now we can have Whiteface back, can't we, father?" asked Walter,
joyfully.

"Yes, Walter," said Mark Nelson, almost as excited as his son. "I will
go over the first thing in the morning."

"Can't we go over this evening?" asked Walter, impatiently.

"No, it is dark, and Whiteface is stalled for the night."

"You'll have seventy dollars left over, father, won't you?"

"Yes; and that will provide for my next interest. I feel grateful and
happy at Tom's success and his thoughtfulness."

Could Tom have seen the effect of his remittance it would have made his
heart glad, and he would have felt abundantly repaid for his labor and
self-denial.

CHAPTER XXVI.

SQUIRE HUDSON'S DISAPPOINTMENT.

If Whiteface was missed at her old home, she was scarcely less
appreciated by her new possessor. On the very morning succeeding the day
when Tom's remittance was received the squire remarked to his head
workman, "Whiteface is an excellent cow, Abner."

"Yes, squire, I calculate she's the best you've got."

"I don't know but she is, Abner," said the squire, complacently. "I
consider her worth at least fifty dollars."

"So she is, every cent of it."

"And she cost me only thirty," thought Squire Hudson, with a smile of
content.

He was a rich man, and abundantly able to pay his poor neighbor the full
value of the cow; but somehow it never occurred to him to do it. He was
not above taking an unfair advantage of a man who was unluckily in his
power. Of course the squire knew that Farmer Nelson had a right to
redeem the cow at the price agreed upon with interest; but he felt
pretty safe on this point. The farmer was not very likely to have thirty
dollars to spare, and as for a remittance from Tom the squire was pretty
sure none would be received.

"It'll be all the boy can do to take care of himself out there," he
reflected, "let alone sending money home. He may send ten dollars or so
some time; but it's very doubtful, very doubtful!"

Squire Hudson turned to go back to the house when he saw the man of whom
he had been thinking coming up the road. He stopped short, thinking the
farmer might wish to speak to him.

"Good-morning, Mr. Nelson," he said, pleasantly, for he was in
good-humor.

"Good-morning, squire."

"Your Whiteface has got to feel quite at home in my barn-yard."

"She is a good cow, Squire Hudson.