We had walked as we talked over to the wheel of fortune, and just as we arrived there a young man was so remarkably lucky as to win a hundred dollars. He was a very lucky young man, because earlier in the day I had passed by there with Ethel and had stopped a minute and he had then won fifty dollars. I like to see such happiness as was his. I have never seen it anywhere else, but on the stage. He put the money in his pocket and started away from the wheel and the gentleman who was running the wheel asked him in honey tones if he wouldn’t stay and try his luck again. “_No_, sir,” said the upright young man. “I never did anything of this kind before to-day, and I’m going to stop now.” “I wish I had your strength of character,” said the owner of the wheel, who seemed to be a very straightforward sort of person, even if he was limited in his phraseology. I recalled that he had said exactly the same words to the same young man when he had won the fifty dollars in the morning, and had signified his intention of stopping for good. “Hello, there’s Cherry, now,” said Sibthorp, and looking up I saw her going by in company with Tom and his wife. Sibthorp joined the trio and he and Cherry fell behind and a minute later I saw them stop at the gate of the merry-go-round. For, of course, a modern country fair would not be the real thing if it did not have one of the gaudily grotesque nerve rackers. Wishing the boy luck, I wandered off alone and soon fell in with Hepburn. “Hello, Mr. Vernon,” said he. “Have you seen anything of Miss Paxton?” “Yes, she and Sibthorp went off together not a minute ago.” “Oh, that’s all right then. I was afraid she had gone off with Billy.” The young men had one evening drunk “_Bruderschaft_” and all called each other by their first names. “Why are you afraid of Billy?” said I. Hepburn colored, an unusual thing for him to do, as he generally had easy command of himself. He looked me straight in the eye and then he said, “I’m hard hit, governor.” “Does you credit,” said I. “Yeah,” said he, pulling at his under lip. “But you know it’s deuced hard for a fellow like _me_ to say anything. All that cursed money of mine, you know. I’ve never been taken for what I am myself until I came up here, and when it comes to telling Miss Paxton how things stand with me, don’t you know—why, I wouldn’t blame her if she refused me, even if she loved me, because a girl like that doesn’t like to be thought—doesn’t like to be thought to be influenced by the money a fellow has.” “Well, she wouldn’t be.”