"I want to settle with you for what you have done. I'm willing to pay a liberal price, you understand, but I won't submit to being robbed outrageously by you or any of your Millville people." This was said so sternly that it sent McNutt into an ague of terror. He fumbled for the smallest bill, tremblingly placed it in Mr. Merrick's hand, and then with a thrill of despair realized he had presented the dreadful No. 1! "It's--it's--a--'count of what I spent out," he stammered. Uncle John ran his eye over the bill. "What are Plymouth Rocks?" he demanded. "He--hens, sir." "Hens at a dollar apiece?" "Thoroughbreds, sir. Extry fine stock. I raised 'em myself." "H-m. You've charged them twice." "Eh?" "Here's an item: 'Twelve Plymouth Rocks, twelve dollars;' and farther down: 'Twelve Plymouth Rocks, eighteen dollars.'" "Oh, yes; o' course. Ye see, I sold you a dozen first, of the dollar kind. Then I thought as how, bein' fine young birds, you'd be tempted fer to eat 'em, an' a dozen don't go fur on the table. So I up an' sold ye another dozen, extry ol' stock an' remarkable high-bred, fer a dollar-an'-a-half each. Which is dirt cheap because they's too old to eat an' jest right fer layers." "Are they here?" "Every one of 'em." "Very good. I'm glad to have them. The cow seems reasonably priced, for a Jersey." "It is. Jest extror'nary!" exclaimed Peggy, reassured. "And your people have all done work of an unusual character in a painstaking manner. I am very much pleased. There seems to be a hundred and forty dollars my due, remaining from the five hundred I sent you." "Here it is, sir," responded McNutt, taking the money from his pocket-book. In another place he had more money, which he had intended to pay if the smaller bill had been presented. Uncle John took the money. "You are an honest fellow, McNutt," said he. "I hadn't expected a dollar back, for folks usually take advantage of a stranger if he gives them half a chance. So I thank you for your honesty as well as for your services. Good morning." The agent was thoroughly ashamed of himself. To be "sech a duffer" as to return that money, when by means of a little strategy he might have kept it, made him feel both humiliated and indignant. A hundred and forty dollars; When would he have a chance to get such a windfall again? Pah! he was a fool--to copy his identical thoughts: "a gol dum blithering idjit!" All the way home he reflected dismally upon his lack of business foresight, and strove to plan ways to get money "out'n thet easy mark." "Didn't the man rob you, Uncle?" asked Louise, when the agent had disappeared. "Yes, dear; but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing I realized it." "That was what I thought. By the way, that Wegg history seems both romantic and unusual," she said, musingly. "Don't you scent some mystery in what the man said of it?"