"I hope I shall."

"Whew!" whistled Dan. He threw down his frow and mallet and seated
himself on the pile of shingles, with an air which said very plainly,
that with such an amount of money in prospect there was no need that
any more work should be done. "That's a fortin, Davy. It's an amazin'
lot fur poor folks like us, an' I can't somehow git it through my
head that we're goin' to git so much. But if we do get it, Davy,
we'll have some high old times when it comes, me an' you."

"You and me!" exclaimed David.

"Sartin; I want some good clothes an' so do you. 'Twon't be enough to
get us a hoss apiece. I _do_ wish I had a circus hoss like Don
Gordon's, but we kin get some better shootin' irons, me an' you kin,
an' mebbe we can git a boat to hunt ducks in, an' some of them
fish-poles what breaks all in pieces an' you carry 'em under your
arm. An', Davy, mebbe we'll have a leetle left to get something fur
the ole woman."

"For mother! I rather think she'll get something," said David, in a
tone of voice that made his brother look up in surprise. "She'll get
it all, every cent of it."

"Not by no means she won't," exclaimed Dan, striking his open palm
with his clenched hand. "No, sir, not by a long shot. You kin give
her your shar', if you're fule enough to do it, but mine I'll keep
fur myself. I'll bet you on that."