"Isn’t the Orphan Home ready yet, daddy?"
"What Orphan Home?" and Abner looked keenly into his daughter’s face. "What have ye heard about it?"
"Nothing much, only I thought they were building one at Glucom. There was some talk about it, wasn’t there?"
"Talk! Sure there was talk. They’ve been talkin’ about it fer years, but I guess that’s as fer as it’ll go. But there, I must git at them pertaters."
Abner gave a fleeting glance at his wife, picked up his hat and left the room.
"What is the matter with, daddy?" Jess asked, after her father had gone.
"I hardly know, except that he seems strange at times. The day I came home he got so excited when I picked up a copy of _The Live Wire_ which had dropped from his pocket."
"He shouted at me and made me give it back to him at once. He said it was dangerous, and that if I looked at it there would be a terrible explosion. I told him there must be something in it that he did not want me to see, and he did not deny it. Have you seen it, mother?"
"No, he didn’t say anything to me about it. I never knew that he brought the paper home. I wonder where he put it."
Mrs. Andrews believed that she knew the cause of her husband’s excitement over _The Live Wire_, and what it contained. But she felt annoyed that he had not shown it to her. Was there something in it that he did not wish her to see? she asked herself. The more she thought about it the more determined she became to find out where Abner had hidden the paper. She said nothing, however, to Jess about it, but discreetly changed the subject, and began to talk about Widow Denton and her troubles.
While the women thus lingered at the table and talked, Abner was busy in his potato patch back of the barn. The weeds were thick and stubborn, but he seemed to take a special delight in tearing them out of the ground. "Give me somethin’ to shake me timbers an’ I kin work like the divil," he had often said. "I kin never accomplish as much in hayin’ time as when a thunderstorm is racin’ down the valley. I’m somethin’ like me old Flyin’ Scud. When it was calm she wasn’t worth her salt, but let a gale hit her, an’ my! how she’d gather her skirts an’ run."
Seldom had Abner such thoughts to agitate his mind as on this fine warm afternoon. He was deeply concerned about the Denton affair, and this naturally turned his attention to the proposed Orphan Home. He was fully aware that this case of destitution would revive a greater interest in the building of the institution, and that he might be called upon at any moment for the thousand dollars he had offered. How he was to raise that amount he had not the slightest idea, and he realized that he had made a fool of himself. If he failed to make good, he would be the laughing-stock of all, and he would be ashamed to be seen again on the streets of Glucom.