feel them, and the magic feel of these badges of his
wealth was better than lock and key.

"Keep them for me until I go away," he said.

Uncle Jeb straightened them out and placed them in his tin strong box.

"Yer ain't thinkin' uv stayin' on, then?" he queried.

"Not after I'm finished," Tom said.

"Mayn't change yer mind, huh?"

"I never change my mind," Tom said.

"I wuz thinkin' haow yer'd be lendin' me a hand," Uncle Jeb ventured.

"I'm going back to work," Tom said; "I had my vacation."

"'Tain't exactly much of a vacation."

"I feel better," Tom said.

Uncle Jeb understood Tom pretty well, and he did not try to argue with
him.

"Be kinder lonesome back home in Bridgebory, huh? With all the boys up
here?" he ventured.

"I'm going to buy a motor-boat," Tom confided to him, "and go out on the
river a lot. A fellow I know will sell his for a hundred dollars. I'm
going to buy it."

"Goin' ter go out in it all alone?"

"Maybe. I spent a lot of time alone. There's a girl I know that works in
the office. Maybe she'll go out in it. Do you think she will?"

"Golly, it's hard sayin' what them critters'll do," Uncle Jeb said.
"Take a she bear; you never can tell if she'll run for you or away from
you."

Tom seemed to ponder on this shrewd observation.

"Best thing is ter stay up here whar yer sure yer welcome," the old man
took occasion to advise him.

"One thing I'm sorry about," Tom said, "and that is that Barnard didn't
come. I guess I won't see him."

"He might come yet," Uncle Jeb said; "and he could give yer a hand."

"I'd let him," Tom said, "'cause I'm scared maybe I won't get finished
now."

"I'm comin' up ter give yer a hand myself to-morrer," Uncle Jeb said,
"and we'll see some chips fly, I reckon. Let's get the fire started."

Uncle Jeb was conscious of a little twinge of remorse that he had not
helped his lonely visitor more, but his own duties had taken much of his
time lately. He realized now the difficulties that Tom had encountered
and surmounted, and he noticed with genuine sympathy that that dogged
bulldog nature was beginning to be haunted with fears of not finishing
the work in time.

Moreover, in that little talk, Tom had revealed, unwittingly, the two
dominant thoughts that were in his mind. One was the hope, the anxiety,
never expressed until now, that Barnard would come, and perhaps help
him. He had been thinking of this and silently counting on it.

The other was his