he says it may be tried. Lydia says try it, of course;
and if no other key unlocks it she will pick the lock with a hairpin.
Oswald is again bruised by this suggestion; but he bears up like a man.
And so we dig up all the trunk keys and other small keys we can find and
try to fool that trunk. And nothing doing!

"I was confident of it," says Oswald; he's really disappointed, yet proud
as Punch because his trunk refuses coldly to recognize these strange
keys.

Then Lydia brings a bunch of hairpins and starts to be a burglar. She
says in clear tones that it is perfectly simple; and she keeps on saying
exactly this after she's bent the whole pack out of shape and not won a
trick. Yet she cheered Oswald a lot, in spite of her failures. She never
for one instant give in that it wasn't simple to open a trunk without the
key.

But it was getting pretty late for one night, so Oswald and Lydia knocked
off and set out on the porch a while. Oswald seemed to be awakening
to her true woman's character, which comes out clad in glory at times
when things happen. She told him she would sure have that trunk opened
to-morrow with some more hairpins--or something.

But in the morning she rushed to Oswald and said they would have the
blacksmith up to open it. He would be sure to open it in one minute with
a few tools; and how stupid of her not to of thought of it before! I
liked that way she left Oswald out of any brain work that had to be done.
So they sent out to Abner to do the job, telling him what was wanted.

Abner is a simple soul. He come over with a hammer and a cold chisel to
cut the lock off. He said there wasn't any other way. Oswald listened
with horror to this cold-blooded plan of murder and sent Abner sternly
away. Lydia was indignant, too, at the painful suggestion. She said Abner
was a shocking old bounder.

Then Oswald had to go out to his field work; but his heart couldn't
of been in it that day. I'll bet he could of found the carcass of a
petrified zebra with seven legs and not been elated by it. He had
only the sweet encouragement of Lydia to brace him. He was depending
pathetically on that young woman.

He got back that night to find that Lydia had used up another pack of
hairpins and a number of the tools from my sewing machine. All had been
black failure, but she still said it was perfectly simple. She never lost
the note of hope out of her voice. Oswald was distressed, but he had to
regard her more and more