gaping mouths and roving eyes, they halted on the threshold.

"Come in, come in! What 're ye 'bout? Earn yer money, earn yer money!"
exclaimed the old man, pointing to the clock, and bidding them take it up
and carry it out.

"Now mind! Quarter a piece, quarter a piece,--not a cent more. Do ye
understand? Hark 'e! do ye understand? Not a cent more," he said,
following them out of the door. Then turning to Mercy, he exclaimed,--

"Bless my soul! Bless my soul! Forgot you, child. Come on, come on! I'll
go with you, else those rascals will cheat you. Men are wolves, wolves,
wolves. They're to carry the clock up to your house for a quarter apiece.
But I'll come on with you. Got half a dollar?"

"Oh, yes," laughed Mercy, much pleased that the old man was willing she
should pay the porters. "Oh, yes, I have my portemonnaie here," holding it
up. "This is the cheapest clock ever sold, I think; and you are very good
to let me pay the men."

The old man looked at her with a keen, suspicious glance.

"Good? eh! good? Why, ye didn't think I was goin' to give ye money, did
ye? Oh, no, no, no! Not money. Never give money."

This was very true. It would probably have cost him a severer pang to give
away fifty cents than to have parted with the entire contents of the
storehouse. Mercy laughed aloud.

"Why, Mr. Wheeler," she said, "you have given me just the same as money.