nd the
silence was impressive, almost reverent. In the midst of it broke Bob's
practical suggestion:

"Shut him in the coal shed. It's got a padlock an' is good an' strong.
He can't kick it down."

Then the law began to take its course, the fire gang stepped out, and
Mrs. Carson set to work to clean up. In the midst of it all Reyburn
looked down at Betty, and Betty looked up at Reyburn, and they
discovered in some happy confusion that they still had hold of hands.
They tried to cover their embarrassment by laughing, but something had
been established between them that neither could forget.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE days that followed were full of bliss and peace to Betty. With
Hutton safely confined in the distant city, and a comfortable sum of her
accumulated allowance in the Tinsdale bank, with a thorough
understanding between herself and her trustees and the knowledge that
her estate was large enough to do almost anything in reason that she
wished to do with it, and would be hers in three weeks, life began to
take on a different look to the poor storm-tossed child. The days in the
Carson home were all Thanksgivings now, and every member of the family
was as excited and happy as every other member. There were arguments
long and earnest between Betty and her benefactor as to how much she
might in reason be allowed to do for the family now that she had plenty
of money, but in the end Betty won out, declaring that she had wished
herself on this family in her distress, and they took her as a man does
when he marries, for better for worse. Now that the worse had passed by
she was theirs for the better, and she intended to exercise the
privilege of a daughter of the house for the rest of her natural life.

Bi Gage was worried. He was still trying to get something out of the
estate for his part in the exercises, and he vibrated between Tinsdale
and Warren Reyburn's office working up his case. The five-thousand-dollar
reward was as yet unpaid, and the papers he held didn't seem to impress
the functionaries nearly so much as he had expected. It began to look as
though Bi had missed his chances in life once more, and when he took his
old seat in the fire-house and smoked, he said very little. Popular
Opinion was still crouching with her eye in his direction and it
behooved him to walk cautiously and do nothing to offend. So while he
smoked he cogitated in his cunning little brain, and hatched out a plan
by which he migh