Thus advised, the unfortunate made another appeal to his mother the next day, and having brought about no relaxation of the situation, again petitioned his father, on the following evening. So it went, the torn and driven William turning from parent to parent; and surely, since the world began, the special sum of three dollars and sixty cents has never been so often mentioned in any one house and in the same space of time as it was in the house of the Baxters during Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of that oppressive week. But on Friday William disappeared after breakfast and did not return to lunch. Mrs. Baxter was troubled. During the afternoon she glanced often from the open window of the room where she had gone to sew, but the peaceful neighborhood continued to be peaceful, and no sound of the harassed footsteps of William echoed from the pavement. However, she saw Genesis arrive (in his week-day costume) to do some weeding, and Jane immediately skip forth for mingled purposes of observation and conversation. “What _do_ they say?” thought Mrs. Baxter, observing that both Jane and Genesis were unusually animated. But for once that perplexity was to be dispersed. After an exciting half-hour Jane came flying to her mother, breathless. “Mamma,” she cried, “I know where Willie is! Genesis told me, ’cause he saw him, an’ he talked to him while he was doin’ it.” “Doing what? Where?” “Mamma, listen! What you think Willie’s doin’? I bet you can’t g--” “Jane!” Mrs. Baxter spoke sharply. “Tell me what Genesis said, at once.” “Yes’m. Willie’s over in a lumber-yard that Genesis comes by on his way from over on the avynoo where all the colored people live--an’ he’s countin’ knot-holes in shingles.” “He is _what_?” “Yes’m. Genesis knows all about it, because he was thinkin’ of doin’ it himself, only he says it would be too slow. This is the way it is, mamma--listen, mamma, because this is just exactly the way it is. Well, this lumber-yard man got into some sort of a fuss because he bought millions an’ millions of shingles, mamma, that had too many knots in, an’ the man don’t want to pay for ’em, or else the store where he bought ’em won’t take ’em back, an’ they got to prove how many shingles are bad shingles, or somep’m, and anyway, mamma, that’s what Willie’s doin’. Every time he comes to a bad shingle, mamma, he puts it somewheres else, or somep’m like that, mamma, an’ every time he’s put a thousand bad shingles in this other place, they give him six cents. He gets the six cents to keep, mamma--an’ that’s what he’s been doin’ all day!” “Good gracious!” “Oh, but that’s nothing, mamma--just you wait till you hear the rest. _That_ part of it isn’t anything a _tall_, mamma! You wouldn’t hardly notice that part of it, if you knew the other part of it, mamma. Why, that isn’t _anything_!” Jane made demonstrations of scorn for the insignificant information already imparted. “Jane!” “Yes’m?”