His pipe had gone out. Cap'n Jonah was not much of a smoker. He got up and walked away from the disappointed Orrin. Cap'n Jonah's face was very grim as he paced down the lane. Finally: "Whatever! I was sore tempted--I sartainly was. If that scalawag has got any money laid up--he and Sarah--I b'lieve I could saw off them ile sheers on to him easy. "And s'arve him right," pursued Cap'n Jonah. "The feller that sold 'em to me was mighty glad to git rid of 'em, I don't dispute. I bit, and bit good. And I'd rayther like to see Orrin Petty swaller hook, line, and sinker same's I did, I vow!" However that might be, curiosity and cupidity urged Orrin Petty to ask a question of the Paulmouth Bank cashier that very afternoon when he went to make a deposit in his own and Sarah's name. In a small way Orrin was considered a good customer by the bank. He made frequent deposits, and he never took a penny out. "What are oil stocks worth, Mr. Petty?" repeated the cashier in reply to a question on that point. "Why, some I might mention are to-day quoted--provided you could buy them--at six hundred and seventy. That is five hundred and seventy dollars above par." "Goshamighty!" murmured the wonderstruck Orrin. "An' suppose that old codger was foxy enough to buy 'em at a hundred? I bet he did!" He did not hear the cashier's additional information: "And some of them are not worth the paper they are printed on." This day was not ended for Cap'n Jonah before he came to one conclusion that would color his opinion of his relatives and his future intercourse with them, whether he was rich or poor. The laws of the Medes and the Persians were no more unbreakable than certain housekeeping rules in Sarah Petty's house. Ironing day followed wash day as surely as the day dawned. Since immediately after the early breakfast Pearl had been standing at the ironing board in the hot kitchen, save when the board must be put aside for the serving of the dinner. Midafternoon came, and the girl was still at the board, wielding the heavy irons. Her pretty face was flushed, but there was a white line about her mouth that Cap'n Jonah could see from his chair in the shaded porch. Her hair clung in damp clusters of curls about her brow. There was a strained expression in her dark eyes, and they were deep, smoldering pools of flame. The girl was overtired and her nerves were almost at the breaking point. No offer did Sarah Petty make to help her little drudge. She puttered about certain light household duties and superintended the boiling of the pork and cabbage for dinner. But she did not lift her hand to lighten Pearl's task. Her tongue was seldom still in fault-finding. There are housekeepers _and_ housekeepers. Sarah Petty was one of the other kind! Nobody could be clean enough, or exact enough, to suit her. Every piece she saw Pearl iron could be done better; nor was her uncomplaining serving maid that paragon which Sarah considered she should be.