n before, which Kate had not thought
possible. But the same dull red on the girl's cheeks had begun to burn
on the face of young Adam. Suddenly he broke into a clear laugh.

"Oh, Ma, you're too funny!" he cried. "I can read your face like a
book. I bet you ten dollars I can tell you just word for word what you
are going to say. I dare you let me! You know I can!" Still laughing,
his eyes dancing, a picture to see, he stretched his arm across the
table toward her, and his mother adored him, however she strove to
conceal the fact from him.

"Ten dollars!" she scoffed. "When did we become so wealthy? I'll give
you one dollar if you tell me exactly what I was going to say."

The boy glanced at his father. "Oh this is too easy!" he cried. "It's
like robbing the baby's bank!" And then to his mother: "You were just
opening your lips to say: 'Give it to her! If you don't, I will!'
And you are even a little bit more of a brick than usual to do it.
It's a darned shame the way all of them impose on Kate."

There was a complete change in Agatha's back. Adam, Jr., laid down his
fork and stared at his wife in deep amazement. Adam, 3d, stretched his
hand farther toward his mother. "Give me that dollar!" he cajoled.

"Well, I am not concealing it in the sleeve of my garments," she said.
"If I have one, it is reposing in my purse, in juxtaposition to the
other articles that belong there, and if you receive it, it will be
bestowed upon you when I deem the occasion suitable."

Young Adam's fist came down with a smash. "I get the dollar!" he
triumphed. "I TOLD you so! I KNEW she was going to say it! Ain't I a
dandy mind reader though? But it is bully for you, Father, because of
course, if Mother wouldn't let Kate have it, you'd HAVE to; but if you
DID it might make trouble with your paternal land-grabber, and endanger
your precious deed that you hope to get in the sweet by-and-by. But if
Mother loans the money, Grandfather can't say a word, because it is her
very own, and didn't cost him anything, and he always agrees with her
anyway! Hurrah for hurrah, Kate! Nancy Ellen may wash her own
petticoat in the morning, while I take you to the train. You'll let
me, Father? You did let me go to Hartley alone, once. I'll be
careful! I won't let a thing happen. I'll come straight home. And oh,
my dollar, you and me; I'll put you in the bank and let you grow to
three!"

"You may go," said his father, promptly.

"You