Chicky Wiggins never could hope to buy the wheel, for he was a
district messenger boy, and it took all his weekly earnings to pay for
his board and lodging and washing and shoe-leather. Chicky had no
family to look after him, or help him make one nickel do the work of
three.

Abbot Morgan was such a well-dressed boy that one might have supposed
that his pockets were always supplied with spending money, but those
who knew Abbot's uncle, the hard, grasping man with whom he lived,
knew better. Peter had worked hard for his little fortune, and, while
he was willing to provide a comfortable home for his sister's orphan
son, he did not propose that one penny should be spent in foolishness,
as he called it. So there was little hope of Abbot ever owning the
wheel.

"But I'll have something to spend as I please this summer," he said,
as they stood looking in through the window. "Uncle said that after I
have done Aunt Jane's chores every morning, I shall have my time to
myself this summer. He let me have the two acres back of the house for
a garden, and I've got it planted with all sorts of vegetables. They
are coming on fine, and I'm going to sell them and have all the money
myself, after uncle has paid for the seed."

Many a conversation about the wheel took place in front of that
window, and old Judge Parker, who had his law-office next door, soon
began to look for the boys' visit as one of the most interesting
happenings of the day. Everybody in Bardstown knew old Judge Parker.
He was as queer as he was kind-hearted, which was saying a great deal,
as he was the most benevolent old soul that had ever lived in the