stack of
your'n?"

"'Bout 10 tons," answered the Deacon.

"Jest about. Well, I'll pay you the regular market price for it, and
give $100 to Miss Trelawney. Now, let this gentleman stand 50 feet from
it and shoot his gun at it. He mustn't tell none of us where he aims at.
I'll sell you, gentlemen, that hay in 40 quarter-ton lots, commencing at
the top, each man to pay $2 besides the regular price for a quarter ton
o' hay, an' we'll draw numbers as to our turns in takin' the fodder."

"Looks somethin' like gamblin'," demurred the Deacon.

"No more'n church lotteries," answered Jabe, "since it's for a good
purpose. Now, gentlemen, who wants to buy a quarter ton of Deacon
Klegg's first-class hay?"

At once he had replies enough to take the whole stack, but while he was
writing down the names Deacon Klegg had another idea.

"I can't quite git my mind reconciled to gamblin', even for a good
purpose," he said. "And I ain't sure about how the two 50's 'll strike
the haystack. It'd be a sin if they were destroyed, as they are likely
to be. I've another idee. My well there is 25 foot deep. Let's take the
bucket out, and let Shorty shoot his gun straight down into the well.
I believe the money'll come out all right. If it don't I'll make it up
myself, rather than be a party to a gamble."

"May blow the bottom o' your old well out," muttered Jabe Clemmons, who
dearly loved anything in the shape of a game of hazard.

"I'll resk that," said the Deacon. "I kin dig an other well, if
necessary."

The Deacon's proposal was carried. Shorty, holding the butt of his gun
carefully upright, fired down into the well. A boy was lowered in the
bucket, and soon announced by a joyful cry that he had gotten the bills.
Upon being brought up and examined they were found to be uninjured, ex
cept by a slight singeing at the edges.

"Providence's agin managin' things," murmured Shorty gratefully; "but
the Deacon's gumption helped out."

All the money for those not present to receive it in person was turned
over to the Deacon, and then for the first time the boys felt relieved
of a great responsibility.

"There are two trains goin' east," said the Deacon, in response to
their inquiries as to the facilities for returning. "The through express
passes here at 3:15, and it'll git you to Jeffersonville early in the
morning. The accommodation passes about day break, and it'll git you
there in the evenin', if it makes connections, which it often