me if it was to be
sold."

"Mis' Cullom," said David, "I said I'd got somethin' more to tell ye,
an' if, when I git through, you don't think I've treated you right,
includin' this mornin's confab, I hope you'll fergive me. It's this, an'
I'm the only person livin' that 's knowin' to it, an' in fact I may say
that I'm the only person that ever was really knowin' to it. It was
before you was married, an' I'm sure he never told ye, fer I don't doubt
he fergot all about it, but your husband, Billy P. Cullom, that was,
made a small investment once on a time, yes, ma'am, he did, an' in his
kind of careless way it jest slipped his mind. The amount of cap'tal he
put in wa'n't large, but the rate of int'rist was uncommon high. Now, he
never drawed no dividends on't, an' they've ben 'cumulatin' fer forty
year, more or less, at compound int'rist."

The widow started forward, as if to rise from her seat. David put his
hand out gently and said, "Jest a minute, Mis' Cullom, jest a minute,
till I git through. Part o' that cap'tal," he resumed, "consistin' of a
quarter an' some odd cents, was invested in the cirkis bus'nis, an' the
rest on't--the cap'tal, an' all the cash cap'tal that I started in
bus'nis with--was the ten cents your husband give me that day, an'
here," said David, striking the papers in his left hand with the back of
his right, "_here_ is the _dividends_! This here second morgidge, not
bein' on record, may jest as well go onto the fire--it's gettin'
low--an' here's a satisfaction piece which I'm goin' to execute now,
that'll clear the thousan' dollar one. Come in here, John," he called
out.

The widow stared at David for a moment speechless, but as the
significance of his words dawned upon her, the blood flushed darkly in
her face. She sprang to her feet and, throwing up her arms, cried out:
"My Lord! My Lord! Dave! Dave Harum! Is it true?--tell me it's true! You
ain't foolin' me, air ye, Dave? You wouldn't fool a poor old woman that
never done ye no harm, nor said a mean word agin ye, would ye? Is it
true? an' is my place clear? an' I don't owe nobody anythin'--I mean, no
money? Tell it agin. Oh, tell it agin! Oh, Dave! it's too good to be
true! Oh! Oh! Oh, _my_! an' here I be cryin' like a great baby, an',
an'"--fumbling in her pocket--"I do believe I hain't got no
hank'chif--Oh, thank ye," to John; "I'll do it up an' send it back
to-morrer. Oh, what made ye do it, Dave?"

"Set right down an' take it easy, Mis'