"Oh," said Jim, gayly, "I've bought some of that 'Golden Hope' mining stock. Billy Monroe has just made fifteen thousand on it, and I'll make as much in a week or two." "Oh, Jim, you 'ain't taken all the money out of the bank?" "Don't you worry, old girl," replied Jim. "I guess you'll find I can take care of you yet." But the stock went down, and Jim's little venture with it. "Guess you were about right, old man," he said to Andrew. Andrew was rather looked up to for his superior caution and sagacity. He was continually congratulated upon it. "Savings-banks are good enough for me," he kept repeating. But that was four years ago, and now his turn had come; the contagion of speculation had struck him at last. That was the way with Lloyd's failing employes. Andrew kept his stock certificate in a little, tin, trunk-shaped box which had belonged to his father. It had a key and a tiny padlock, and he had always stored in it the deed of his house, his savings-bank book, and his insurance policy. He carried the key in his pocket. Fanny never opened the box, or had any curiosity about it, believing that she was acquainted with its contents; but now when, on coming unexpectedly into the bedroom--the box was always kept at the head of the bed--she heard a rattle of papers, and caught Andrew locking the box with a confused air, she began to suspect something. She began to look hard at the box, to take it up and shake it when her husband was away. Fanny was crocheting hoods as well as Eva. Ellen wished to learn, but her mother would not allow that. "You've got enough to do to study your lessons," she said. Andrew watched his wife crochet with ill-concealed impatience. "I ain't goin' to have you do that long," he said--"workin' at that rate for no more money. That Mrs. William Pendergrass that lets out these hoods is as bad as any factory boss in the country." "Well, she got the chance," said Fanny, "and they won't let out the work except that way; they can get it done so much cheaper." "Well, you sha'n't have it, anyhow," said Andrew, smiling mysteriously. "Why, you ain't goin' to work again, be you, Andrew?" "You wait." "Well, don't you talk the way poor Jim did. Eva wasn't going to crochet any more hoods, and now Jim's out of work again. Eva told me yesterday that she didn't know where the money was comin' from. Jim's mother owns the place, and it ain't worth much, anyhow, and they can't take it from her in her lifetime, even if she was willing to let it go. Eva said she was goin' to try again for work herself in the shop. She thought maybe there might be some kind of a job she could get. Don't you talk like Jim did about his good-for-nothin' mining stock. I've been glad enough that you had sense enough to keep what little we had where 'twas safe."