"Could the one who had owned the house years before, or lived in the place, come forward and claim it?"

"No, Lucy; I think not."

"Thank you, very much, Abner, for your advice. The--er--question just came into my--er--mind, and I wanted to satisfy myself; that's all."

"Certainly, widow, certainly," answered Nat's uncle. He wanted to ask some questions, but did not dare.

"Now you are here, you must take supper with me," went on the Widow Guff.

"Thank you, Lucy, you are very kind----"

"I know you haven't any housekeeper any more, and n.o.body to cook for you. Yes, stay by all means."

The widow was a fairly good cook, and Nat's uncle ate with a relish all that was offered to him, ending with a piece of berry pie which was particularly fine. He spent a social hour after the meal, and then drove home in a thoughtful mood.

"Is it possible that the widow really found a pot of gold in the well?"

he thought. "She didn't really say so, but it was mighty odd for her to ask me such questions. I'll have to look into this a bit." And then he got to thinking that the widow was not such a bad-looking woman after all, and a wife with a pot of gold would be a very nice thing to possess.

About a week later Abner Balberry had occasion to go to town, to draw a little money from the bank, with which to pay for a cow he had purchased. He was pa.s.sing the widow's home when she came out on the piazza and nodded to him.

"Good-morning," she said.

"Good-morning," he returned, and stopped for a chat. During the course of the conversation he mentioned his errand, and she said she was going to the bank too. He asked her to ride to the inst.i.tution, and she accepted the invitation. When they arrived there he told her he would wait until she was through. Then he went around to a side window of the bank, where he might hear what took place.

The widow tripped up to the window.

"Can you give me change for a ten-dollar gold piece?" she asked.

"With pleasure, Mrs. Guff," was the answer, and the change for the gold piece was immediately forthcoming.

"By the way," went on the widow, "the bank is in quite a flourishing condition, is it not?"

"We are doing finely, yes."

"And you receive deposits, do you not?"

"Of course."

"Do you receive as high as--as five thousand dollars?"

"No," answered the cashier, in some surprise. "Three thousand dollars from one depositor is our limit. Do you know of anybody who----"

"It's of no consequence," interrupted the widow, hurriedly. "I only asked out of curiosity. How much interest do you pay?"

"Four per cent. on the first thousand and three per cent. on the remainder."

"Thank you, and much obliged for the change. Good-morning," and the Widow Guff tripped out lightly and hurried up the street.

Abner Balberry had overheard every word and his face was a study as he went into the bank to draw what he wanted, thirty dollars.

"Jest had the Widow Guff here, didn't you?" he said, lightly.

"Yes, Mr. Balberry." The cashier paused. "Do you know if anybody has left her money lately?" he continued.

"Not that I know on? Why?"

"Oh, she was asking what rate of interest we paid, and if we took as high as five thousand dollars."

"I see. Well, I don't know nothin' about it," and Abner Balberry pocketed his money and his bank book, and walked out after the widow.

If he had been in deep thought before he was more so now. Was it possible that the widow had found five thousand dollars?

"She changed a ten-dollar piece," he reasoned. "I reckon I kin see through a millstone when there's a hole through it. Tell ye what, a widder with five thousand in gold ain't to be sneezed at! I wonder if anybody else knows o' this? Hope they don't!"

That evening the farmer sat up till late, thinking the situation over.

He did not wish for a wife so much, but he did wish to get his hands on that pot of gold.

"If I want her I'll have to propose before some other feller hears o'

this," he told himself.

The farmer made it his business to go to town two days later, and drove past the widow's house very slowly. She saw him from a window, and nodded and smiled.

This was encouraging, and on returning from his errand, he tied up in front of the place, and rang the bell.

"Oh, Abner, I am delighted to see you!" said the widow, on coming to the door. "Come in."

"Thank you, Lucy," he answered, and entered the parlor.

"It was so good of you to come," she simpered. "I wanted somebody to talk to."

"Anything special?" he asked, curiously.

"I have received notice to leave this house. I guess Mr. Haskell, the owner, wishes it for himself." She did not add that her rent was about due, and she did not know how to meet the payment.

"Where do you think of going, widow?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Abner. I haven't a single place. You know I'm all alone in the world."

She looked at him fondly, and he at once fell into the trap.

"Better come an' live with me, Lucy."

"Oh, Abner! What do you mean?"

"I mean that I think a heap o' you, Lucy, an' I'd like you fer my wife.

I know as how we could git along fine together," answered Nat's uncle, earnestly. Just then that pot of gold seemed almost within his reach.

The widow blushed, and pretended to be greatly surprised.