Uncle John and Louise, glaring at the distant group, saw the third red
book change hands, and in answer to their renewed cries and gestures
Patsy waved the "Lives of the Saints" at them reassuringly and came on
at a brisk walk, followed by Beth.

McNutt slapped the sorrel with the ends of the reins so energetically
that the mare broke into a trot, and before the girls had come within
speaking distance of their uncle, the agent was well out of sight and
exulting in the possession of eleven dollars to pay for his morning's
work. Even if Ethel accepted that ten, he reflected, he would still be a
dollar ahead. But he was sure she would tell him to keep it; and he'd
"jest like to see thet air nabob git a penny back agin."

Meantime Uncle John's wrath, which was always an effervescent quality
with the little gentleman, had changed to wonder when he saw his nieces
approaching with the third red-and-gold book. Louise was leaning against
the rail fence and laughing hysterically, and suddenly a merry smile
appeared and spread over her uncle's round face as he said:

"Did you ever hear of such an audacious swindle in all your born days?"

"What will you do, Uncle?" asked the girl, wiping the tears of merriment
from her eyes. "Have the man arrested?"

"Of course not, my dear. It's worth the money just to learn what talents
the fellow possesses. Tell me, Patsy," he continued, as the other nieces
joined them, "what did you pay for your book?"

"Five dollars. Uncle. He said--"