At the appointed hour the Board of Trustees met in the hall over the post-office. The usual loungers filled the room--members of the Union, and others who had counted on a piece of the highway pie when it was cut. Dempsey, Crimmins, and Quigg sat outside the rail, against the wall. They were waiting for McGaw, who had not been seen since the afternoon. The president was in his accustomed place. The five gentlemen of leisure, the veterinary surgeon, and the other trustees occupied their several chairs. The roll had been called, and every man had answered to his name. The occasion being one of much importance, a full board was required. As the minute-hand neared the hour of nine Dempsey became uneasy. He started every time a new-comer mounted the stairs. Where was McGaw? No one had seen him since he swallowed the tumblerful of whiskey and disappeared from O'Leary's, a few hours before. The president rapped for order, and announced that the board was ready to sign the contract with Thomas Grogan for the hauling and delivery of the broken stone required for public highways. There was no response. “Is Mrs. Grogan here?” asked the president, looking over the room and waiting for a reply. “Is any one here who represents her?” he repeated, after a pause, rising in his seat as he spoke. No one answered. The only sound heard in the room was that of the heavy step of a man mounting the stairs. “Is there any one here who can speak for Mrs. Thomas Grogan?” called the president again, in a louder voice. “I can,” said the man with the heavy tread, who proved to be the foreman at the brewery. “She won't live till mornin'; one of her horses kicked her and broke her skull, so McGaw told me.” “Broke her skull! My God! man, how do you know?” demanded the president, his voice trembling with excitement. Every man's face was now turned toward the new-comer; a momentary thrill of horror ran through the assemblage. “I heard it at the druggist's. One of her boys was over for medicine. Dr. Mason sewed up her head. He was drivin' by, on his way to Quarantine, when it happened.” “What Dr. Mason?” asked a trustee, eager for details. “The man what used to be at Quarantine seven years ago. He's app'inted ag'in.” Dempsey caught up his hat and hurriedly left the room, followed by Quigg and Crimmins. McGaw, he said to himself, as he ran downstairs, must be blind drunk, not to come to the meeting, “----him! What if he gives everything away!” he added aloud. “This news is awful,” said the president. “I am very sorry for Mrs. Grogan and her children--she was a fine woman. It is a serious matter, too, for the village. The highway work ought to commence at once; the roads need it. We may now have to advertise again. That would delay everything for a month.”