seventy-eight foot. I reckon you git the money."

Thad stood for a moment, nonplussed, a scowl on his face. Suddenly he
recovered.

"Hold on! That's more than they said it was. The money's mine."

"Shucks, you dumb fool! Maybe a couple o' inches. I reckon we made the
mistake, fer we wasn't careful. It gits me they was that near it. The
cash is his'n."

Gus took the bills, thrust his own into his pocket again and handed the
two dollar note and the three ones to Skeets.

"Please give them to him for me," indicating Thad, "I don't want his
money."

"Not I," said the fat girl; "it isn't my funeral. Let him do the weeping
and you take and give them to the poor."

Gus offered them to Grace, who also refused, shaking her head. Bill took
the bills, and, limping over to Thad, handed him his wager. "You mustn't
feel sore at us," counseled the youthful engineer. "This was only along
the lines of experiment and--and fun."

But though Bill meant this in the kindliest spirit of comradeship, the
boy sensed a feeling of extreme animosity that he was at a loss to
account for. Bill backed off, further speech toward conciliation
becoming as lame as his leg. The others witnessed this and Grace said,
quite heatedly: