work. He took a silver coin from the leather poke in his pocket
and hammered it flat on the anvil in his barn. Thin as paper he hammered
it until he could roll it easily between thumb and finger. Then around
and around he rolled it between his palms until there was a ball as
round and as firm as ever was made with a mold. Amos put it in his
rifle.

The next morning when he went out to work in his garden there was
scarcely a head of cabbage left. The bunch beans he had been saving back
and the cut-short beans had been plucked and the row of sweet corn which
he had planted so carefully along the fence-row had been stripped to the
last roasting ear. He stooped down to look at the earth. "Footprints of
the deer and the fawn, without a doubt. But she must have worn an apron
or carried a basket to take away so much." Amos shook his head in
perplexity. Then he hurried back to the house to get his gun.

"Right here do I wait." He braced himself in the doorway, back to the
jam, knees jackknifed, gun cocked. "Here do I wait until I catch sight
of that doe and her fawn."

It wasn't long till the two appeared on a nearby ridge, pranking to and
fro. Into the forest they scampered, then out again, frisking up their
hind feet, then standing still as rocks and looking down at Amos Tingley
in his doorway.

Then Amos lifted his gun, pulled the trigger.

The fawn darted away but the deer fell bleeding with a bullet in the
leg.

"Let her bleed! Bleed till there's not a drop of blood left in her veins
and my silver coin is washed back to my own hands!" That was the wish of
Amos Tingley, the miser. He went back into the house and put his gun in
the corner.

When darkness came little Tinie Billberry stood sobbing at Amos
Tingley's door. "Please to come," she pleaded. "My mother says she'll
die if you don't. She wants to make amends!"

"Amends?" gasped Amos Tingley. "Amends for what?"

But Tinie had dashed away in the darkness.

When Amos reached pretty Audrey Billberry's door, he found her pale in
the candlelight, her ankle shattered and bleeding. The foot rested in a
basin.

"See what you've done, Amos Tingley." The pretty widow lifted
tear-dimmed eyes, while Tinie huddled shyly behind her. "A pitcher of
water, quick, Tinie, to wash away the blood!"

As the child poured the water over the bleeding foot, Amos heard
something fall into the basin. He caught the flash of silver. Amos stood
speechless.

In the basin lay the silv