to-morrow."

"Never, never, never. He never will comeback. I don't know what is to
become of us. I don't know what in the world is to become of us."

A shade of uneasiness came into Hawkins's face. He said:

"Why, Nancy, you--you can't believe what you are saying."

"Believe it, indeed? I know it, Si. And I know that we haven't a cent
in the world, and we've sent ten thousand dollars a-begging."

"Nancy, you frighten me. Now could that man--is it possible that I
--hanged if I don't believe I have missed a chance! Don't grieve, Nancy,
don't grieve. I'll go right after him. I'll take--I'll take--what a
fool I am!--I'll take anything he'll give!"

The next instant he left the house on a run. But the man was no longer
in the town. Nobody knew where he belonged or whither he had gone.
Hawkins came slowly back, watching wistfully but hopelessly for the
stranger, and lowering his price steadily with his sinking heart. And
when his foot finally pressed his own threshold, the value he held the
entire Tennessee property at was five hundred dollars--two hundred down
and the rest in three equal annual payments, without interest.

There was a sad gathering at the Hawkins fireside the next night. All
the children were present but Clay. Mr. Hawkins said:

"Washington, we seem to be hopelessly fallen, hopelessly involved. I am
ready to give up. I do not know where to turn--I never have been down so