way," he went on,
"what about the pot of gold you found?"

"The pot of gold I found?" she repeated, blankly.

"Yes, the one you found in the well. What did you do with it?"

"Why, I never found any pot of gold in a well, Abner! What put that in
your head?"

He shoved back his chair in horror, and gazed at her blankly.

"Didn't you tell me you had found a pot of gold in a well, Lucy?" he
demanded.

"Never!"

"Certainly, you did. You asked me if you could keep it or if the law
could take it from you. I told you the law couldn't touch it."

"Oh, I remember now!" she answered, sweetly. "I read about such a find
in a story magazine, and I was wondering if the finder could keep it, or
if it would have to be turned over to the person who owned the property
on which the well was located. But I certainly never said anything about
my finding a pot of gold."

"Well, I'll be jiggered! Didn't you go to the bank an' ask 'em if they
would take five thousand dollars?"

"Oh, I was only curious to know how much they would take, that was all,
Abner." And she smiled again.

Abner could not endure that smile, and pushing back his chair still
further, he arose and left the house. Once in the barn he shook his fist
viciously at an imaginary enemy.

"Of all the fools!" he muttered. "I've been tuk in clean an' clear! She
ain't got no pot o' gold, an' never did have! If this ain't jest the
worst yet. Abner Balberry, you ought to be kicked full o' holes, and
ducked in the pond besides!"

He felt in no mental condition to go back to the house, and so did not
return until it was time for supper. He found a good meal awaiting him,
and his wife on hand as pert as ever.

"What made you run off?" she demanded. "It wasn't a nice way to do."

"You fooled me about thet pot o' gold," he answered, bluntly.

"I never did, and I want you to stop talking about it, Abner Balberry."

This was said so sharply it fairly made him jump.

"Eh?"

"Did you marry me simply for my money?" she demanded, coming up to him
with her hands on her hips.

"N--no!" he stammered.

"Well, then, stop talking about a pot o' gold. I haven't any, and
neither have you."

"Ain't you got no money o' your own, Lucy?"

"If I have I'm going to keep it to myself," she answered. "Come to
supper."

He sat down and ate in silence. The next day he wanted to speak about
money again, but she cut him short.

"I don't want to hear about it," she said, tartly. "I'm y