"Nothing of the kind," answered Uncle Daniel. "It is a kindness I do these children. Shall I pay for it, yet?" "And then Sarah will _have_ to come here?" "Sarah will have to do what I say she shall do," answered Uncle Daniel. "And Albert and Ellie and Weezy. Everybody will have to do what I say they shall do." Jacob Kalb gazed at him with admiration and delight. Daniel Swartz always found some way of accomplishing what he wished. It was true that he had not succeeded in adopting William Wenner. But he had succeeded in punishing William, only Jacob knew how well. If it had not been for that knowledge, Jacob Kalb would not have been looking forward with such delight to living in the Wenner house, instead of walking back and forth each night and morning to the house of his wife's father, three miles away, where he lived now. He rose to go home, not at all certain that Sarah was not waiting for him outside the door with her shot-gun. "In the morning you are to go early into town with me," said Uncle Daniel. "At six o'clock we will start." "You ought to bring a little hat for Albert," said Aunt 'Liza when the door was closed. "No, sir," answered her husband. "I bring him perhaps a little candy or peanuts, but no more. Not till he is here to stay. I brought William sometimes presents, suits, I brought him, and a little cap, and shoes, and once such a little velocipede, and what did I get? No, sir. When Albert is here to stay, then I get him some things." When supper was over, he sat down before the fire. He seemed to be brooding over William's ingratitude. "Shoes, I bought him, and candy. And what did I get for it?" Accompanied by Jacob Kalb, he reached the county seat long before the earliest lawyer was astir. It did not occur to him that there was a difference in lawyers or lawyers' prices. He had heard of Alexander Weaver, so he went to him. "This is a fine way," he said to Jacob Kalb, when they had waited for half an hour. "I'd like to know how my work would get done if I fooled round this way in the early morning; that is what I would like to know. If he don't soon come, I go." Then the door of Mr. Weaver's private office opened, and Mr. Weaver himself invited them in. He was a dear-eyed, middle-aged man, so busy that he often offended his clients by his curtness. He gave Daniel and Jacob chairs where he could watch their faces. He imagined from their appearance that they had come about some country quarrel. And country fees were hard to collect. Uncle Daniel began slowly to state his cause. "My brother-in-law, he is dead," he announced. "Yes?" The lawyer crossed his knees nervously. "And my sister, she is dead." "Yes?" "And it is nobody to look after their things." "Any children?" "Yes." "Minors?" asked the lawyer. "No, children." "Well, I mean any under age, under twenty-one?"