tounding discovery that Mr. Gwynne's business instead of being
bankrupt would produce not only one hundred cents on the dollar, but a
slight profit as well. This discovery annoyed Mr. Sleighter. He hated
to confess a mistake in business judgment, and he frankly confessed
he "hated to see good money roll past him." Hence with something of a
grudge he prepared to hand over to Mr. Gwynne some twelve hundred and
fifty dollars of salvage money.

"I suppose he will be selling out his farm," said Mr. Sleighter in
conversation with Mr. Martin. "What's land worth about here?"

"Oh, somewhere about a hundred."

"A hundred dollars an acre!" exclaimed Mr. Sleighter. "Don't try to put
anything over on me. Personally I admire your generous, kindly nature,
but as a financial adviser you don't shine. I guess I won't bother about
that farm anyway."

Mr. Sleighter's question awakened earnest thought in Mr. Martin, and the
next morning he approached Mr. Gwynne with a proposition to purchase his
farm with its attached buildings. Mr. Martin made it clear that he was
chiefly anxious to do a neighbourly turn.

"The house and the stable ain't worth much," he said, "but the farm
bein' handy to my property, I own up is worth more to me than to other
folks, perhaps. So bein' old neighbours, I am willin' to give four
thousand dollars, half cash down, for the hull business."

"Surely that is a low figure," said Mr. Gwynne.

"Low figure!" exclaimed Mr. Martin. "All right, I ain't pressin' it on
you; but if you could get any one in this neighbourhood to offer four
thousand dollars for your farm, I will give you five hundred extra.
But," he continued, "I ain't pressin' you. Don't much matter to me."

The offer came at a psychologically critical moment, when Mr. Gwynne was
desperately seeking escape from an intolerable environment.

"I shall consult Mrs. Gwynne," he said, "and let you know in a few
days."

"Don't know as I can wait that long," said Mr. Martin. "I made the offer
to oblige you, and besides I got a chance at the Monroe fifty."

"Call to-morrow night," said Mr. Gwynne, and carried the proposal home
to his wife.

The suggestion to break up her home to a woman of Mrs. Gwynne's type
is almost shattering. In the big world full of nameless terrors the
one spot offering shelter and safety for herself and her family was her
home. But after all, her husband was her great concern, and she could
see he was eager for the change. She mad