“Well, my little gal, I’m here now, and I’ll clean out the whole lay-out before anybody else shall have ye.” Louisa gave him a look which made his heart beat fast, and, in spite of the curious onlookers he grasped her hand and gave it a hearty squeeze. Then the two returned to the house. “Where was ye at, Lou?” Cyrus asked as she came to his side. “I was speaking to Ira Korner,” replied Louisa calmly. “He’s just back from the wars, you know.” “And ye couldn’t wait till ye had the war news, I suppose,” said Cyrus with a sneer. “Well, he’s a day after the fair. His cake’s all dough. Whit Parmly took the last chanst a Monday. I reckon most everybody’s come and it’s time to begin, ain’t it?” “I suppose it is,” returned Louisa, her heart beating fast. “You can call them in, dad. Where is the paper?” “I let Bud Haley hev it fer a minute. He said he wanted to swop numbers with some one. He’d better not be playing any fool tricks.” “He couldn’t,” said Louisa. “Every one must know his own number after picking it out.” “That’s so,” returned her father. “Well, go git it.” Louisa obeyed, and in a few minutes returned with the well thumbed, greasy piece of paper with its long list of names. She took occasion to glance down the page and made sure that opposite twenty-seven Bud had clumsily scratched out his own name and had written Ira’s in its stead. Everybody now crowded into the room which was filled to its utmost capacity. Around the doorway and on the outside the men stood shoulder to shoulder, their rough faces full of expectation. Every one of them was anxious, not so much to secure the prize, as to see that neither Jabez nor Pike won it. Bud had done some lobbying and it began to be known how matters stood between Louisa and Ira. “Who’s to do the drawing?” asked Pike Smith in his stentorian voice. “I think I should be allowed to pick out my own husband,” said Louisa, a sudden light coming into her eyes. “Where’s your hat, dad? I want that.” “Here, take mine, or mine,” said half a dozen. “No, no, I must have dad’s, his old hat; I want that,” persisted the girl. “Let her have her way,” said burly Timothy Forbes, “they all hev their notions.” “That they have,” spoke up old Jabez with a smirk. “Might as well give ’em their own gait till you want to drive ’em double.” Ira frowned, but Pike Smith laughed loudly. It was several minutes before Louisa returned with the hat. “Now blindfold her, Hannah Maria,” shouted John, “and see that there is no chance of her peeping.” “I’ll cut off the slips first,” said Louisa quietly. “See, here, if anybody wants to look let ’em do it.” The numbers dropped from her scissors one by one into the old hat. Louisa tossed them lightly about. “I’ll mix them well,” she said carelessly. “How many times shall I draw?” “Let the fifth drawing be the one,” said Jabez officiously.