nd had turned,
white with anger, to vent his rage upon them, they were spinning down
the road.

"Tim," said Henry Burns, as they rode along, "you get the money."

It was a day or two later, on a sultry afternoon, and Bess Thornton
stood in the doorway of the old house where she and Granny Thornton
lived, looking forth at the sky. A passing shower was sprinkling the
doorsteps with a few big drops, and the girl drew back with a look of
disappointment on her face.

"It always rains when you don't want it to," she said. "Wish there was
somebody to play with. It's pokey here, with gran' gone to Witham's. I
don't know what to do."

Something suggested itself to her mind, however, for presently she
opened the door leading to the attic and went up the stairs. It was dark
and silent in the attic, but she threw open a window at either end,
unfastened the blinds, and the daylight entered. It disclosed a clutter
of old household stuff: some strings of pop-corn and dried apples and
herbs hanging from the rafters, and a lot of faded garments, suspended
from nails.

She tried on an old-fashioned poke-bonnet, looked at herself in a bit of
cracked mirror that leaned against a wash-stand, and laughed at the odd
picture she made. Then, by turns, she arrayed herself in some of the
antiquated garments. She rummaged here and there, until she came to the
old bureau.

"Gran' always keeps that locked," she said. "I guess nobody'd want to
steal anything from this old place, though. She needn't be so
particular. I wonder where she keeps the key."

There was no great difficulty in finding that, either, once she had set
about it; for soon her hand rested on the key, as she felt along the
tops of the beams, and came to the one where Granny Thornton had laid
it.

"I'm going to have a look," said the girl softly to herself. "Gran's
always telling me to keep out of here." Then, as the thought struck her,
she exclaimed, "I'll bet here's where she put the coin."

The lock of the upper drawer of the bureau yielded readily to the
pressure of the key; she drew the drawer out, and looked within. There
was a mixture of curious odds and ends, from which she picked up a tiny
white dress.

"That's funny," she exclaimed. "It's a baby's dress. I wonder what gran'
keeps it for; perhaps 'twas mine. It's small, though. Wonder if I was
ever as little as that."

She took the tiny garment by the sleeves, and held it up against
herself. Then she laughed m