it all over."

"Do you realize that if you stick to your part of the bargain, it
does not follow that the doctor and Basset will stick to theirs?"

Jerome stared at him. "Didn't they sign that document before
witnesses?"

The lawyer laughed. "That document isn't worth the paper it's written
on. It was all horse-play. Didn't you know that, Jerome?"

"Did the doctor and Basset know it?"

"The doctor did. He wouldn't have signed, otherwise. As for
Basset--well, I don't know, but if he comes and asks me, as he will
before he unties his purse strings, I shall tell him the truth about
it, as I'm bound to, and not a dollar will he part with after he
finds out that he hasn't got to. You can judge for yourself whether
Doctor Seth Prescott is likely to fling away a fourth of his property
in any such fool fashion as this."

"Well, I don't know that it makes any difference to me whether they
give or not," said Jerome, proudly.

"Do you mean that you will abide by your part of the agreement if the
others do not abide by theirs?"

"I mean, that I keep my promise when I can; and if every other man
under God's footstool breaks his, it is no reason why I should break
mine."

"That sounds very fine," said the lawyer, dryly; "but do you realize,
my young friend, how far your large fortune alone would go when
divided among the poor of this village?"

"Yes, sir; I have reckoned it up. There are about one hundred who
would come under the terms of the agreement. My money alone, divided
among them, would give about two hundred and fifty dollars apiece."

"That is a large sum."

"It is large to a man who has never seen fifty dollars at once in his
hand, and it is large when several unite and form a company for a new
factory, with machines."

"Do you think they will do that?"

"Yes, sir. Henry Eames will set it going; give him a chance."

"Why don't you, instead of parting with your money, set up the
factory yourself, and employ the whole village?"

"That is not what I said I would do, and it is better for the village
to employ itself. I might fail, or my factory might go, as my mill
has."

"How long do you suppose it will be that every man will have his two
hundred and fifty dollars after you have given it to him? Tell me
that, if you can."

"That isn't my lookout."

"Why isn't it your lookout? A careless giver is as bad as a thief,
sir."

"I am not a careless giver," replied Jerome, stoutly. "I can't tell,
and no