thank you just as much as if you paid for his uniform. Isn't that so,
fellows?"

A chorus of shouts testified to the fact that Paul had hit upon a popular
idea for turning the sudden generosity of the hitherto miserly old farmer
to account.

"Who is the woman?" asked Peleg Growdy uneasily.

"Mrs. Jenks, who has three little children to support. Her husband was
killed in that blast some years ago, and she never recovered a cent from
the mining company, for they burst like a bubble," returned Paul.

"By gum! wot d'ye know about that, now? I reckons as how she lives in one
o' my own cottages, which the real estate man, Stebbins, takes keer of
fur me. He was tellin' me about some tenant he'd have to put out; but I
never noticed more'n that the name was Jenks."

"But now?" ventured Paul.

"It won't be did! No, sir, not by a jugful. I got my team outside, an'
I'm goin' straight over to see the widder. I knowed her husband onct
too, an' I'm some 'shamed thet I didn't look her up afore," and Peleg
started for the door.

"Hold on, Mr. Growdy!" called Paul.

"Hey! wot's doin' now, boys?" demanded the old man, turning to grin again
at his new host of young friends.