"Well, since you wish it so much, it shall be as you say!" said Mrs. Carter, rather unwillingly, at length.

"And also, muz," continued Will, removing the big, wet sponge from his eyes to make the more potent appeal; "if Mr. Hand should come to see me when I'm out, do promise to be nice to him!"

Mrs. Carter made no reply.

"Ted wishes it as much as I do, don't you, Ted?" added Will.

"You're just right," responded Ted, fervently. "So much depends on little things just now!"

Still Mrs. Carter kept silence. Mr. Hand was her most cordial detestation.

"And you know, muz," went on Will, coaxingly, "you can be so fetching when you want to be, and when you want to be otherwise, well" (and here Will chuckled). "I don't exactly wonder that old Hand doesn't love you much. But no one can smooth him down like you, if you only will. Do it, muz, just for us boys! All you'll have to do will be just smile on him, and talk about the weather!"

"O, you dreadful flatterer," laughed Mrs. Carter. "Do you think it's right to try and soft soap your mother this way? Well, I'll promise to be polite and nice to Mr. Hand if he should call! Will that do?"

"Thank you, muz!" said both the boys together.

The copious use of hot water and arnica soon brought Will's face into something like shape, and work on the dike was not greatly hindered. In less than three days more the gap was closed, and the tides finally shut out from the new marsh. The expanse of reddish-brown mud, dotted with pools of muddy water and patches of yellow-green salt grass, was not exactly fair to look upon; but the boys' hearts swelled with triumph as they surveyed it, leaning on their victorious spades. There was yet the dike front to be faced, and much ditching to be done besides, ere the land would become productive.

"But it's good for a hundred and fifty an acre, just as it stands," declared Will, his voice trembling a little with exultation.

"Lay it there, old man!" exclaimed Ted, holding out his hand. And the two boys clasped hands in a grip that was full of love and trust, and a pledge of mutual support all through the future.

"Now," said Will, "in a day or two I'd better go and see Mr. Germain and get his advice as to the best way of selling."

"That's a good plan," answered Ted "You take mother with you, she'll enjoy the drive. And I'll stay and look after things."

"As for old Hand," went on Will, "I shouldn't wonder a bit if he would offer to knock off that two hundred and fifteen dollars arrears of interest!"

"Perhaps," said Ted. "It would be decent of him."

That afternoon, as the Carters were sitting down to tea, Jim Hutchings arrived with a note from Mr. Hand. The man looked very uncomfortable as Ted came to the kitchen door. He said he would wait for an answer; but he surlily refused to come in.

Mr. Hand's note was to Will, asking if he would be at home that evening. Will answered that he would, and would be glad to see Mr. Hand.

About eight o'clock Mr. Hand appeared, and was ushered by Ted into the sitting room where Will and his mother were talking over the matter of the new marsh. Mrs. Carter greeted Mr. Hand quite graciously, as Will brought forward a chair. Then she started to leave the room.

But Mr. Hand, flattered by her politeness, begged her to remain.

"I thought," said Mrs. Carter, "that if you had business with my son Will, Ted and I might perhaps be in your way!" and returning to her chair she took up a piece of sewing. Ted hovered over her, too anxious and excited to sit down.

"Yes," said Mr. Hand, "my business is entirely with William; but I should be glad to hear that you approve of it."

Mr. Hand had rather dreaded the possible attitude of Mrs. Carter. It had been his intention not to let the warm regard he felt for Will interfere with the stiffness of his demeanor to Will's mother. But Mrs. Carter's affability had flattered him in spite of himself. At the same time, he glowed with the consciousness that he was going to perform an act of really distinguished generosity. He was, by second nature, just what he got the credit of being, hard, unscrupulous, avaricious. But his unselfish devotion to his little grandson was gradually opening up a warm and wholesome spot in his heart, where flourished anew the capabilities for good which had not been lacking to him in his youth.

As he gazed about the cozy room, and felt his presence not distasteful, he began to feel very much at ease. The luxury of benefaction was a new one to him, and he wondered at the keenness of its flavor. He began to forget what he had intended to say.

"And how is Toddles, Mr. Hand?" inquired Will, presently.

"None the worse, none the worse at all," said Mr. Hand, recalling himself. "He said he wanted to come and see you, William. He was anxious to give you a kiss; and he's got a lot of pebbles and his favorite jackknife stowed away in a little box, to give you when he sees you!" And Mr. Hand laughed genially. He was prepared to talk all night on the subject of Toddles.

"And what has become of that ruffian Baizley?" asked Mrs. Carter. "I never could have imagined anyone being such a fiend as to treat an innocent baby that way. I hope you have had him arrested."

"He got away. He left on a ship that night," replied Mr. Hand. "But, madam, you should be very proud of your son William."

"I am," laughed Mrs. Carter. "I am very proud of both my sons."

"But William, if you will allow me to say so, is a very unusual young man," persisted Mr. Hand. "Edward, of course, is younger, and I don't know him so well. But I never saw anything like the courage with which William attacked that ferocious Baizley, who must have been twice his weight. And the way he handled him, too! It was truly wonderful, madam. Baizley was just nowhere. I never could have believed it if I had'nt seen it with my own eyes!"

"Now, Mr. Hand, you'll make me vain, if you don't stop," laughed Will.

"You wouldn't think Baizley was just nowhere if you could have seen Will's face when he came home that morning," interrupted Ted.

But Mr. Hand was now on the track he had laid down for himself, and would not be switched off.

"And, moreover," he continued, "you are a judicious young man, William, and you seem to have an excellent head for business. I admire good business abilities. In fact, I may say that for a long time I have felt well disposed toward you. Now, however, allow me to say that I feel the very highest esteem and regard for you; and as a little mark of my gratitude, and in the name of my grandson, I beg that you will accept what is enclosed in this envelope."

He drew from his pocket a long, official-looking envelope, and handed it to Will with a ceremonious bow.

Will hardly knew what to say. He could not guess what was in it, and all he could do was to stammer a few confused words of thanks. The envelope had a very important look, and he was both impressed and mystified. Ted could not repress his eager curiosity, and came around to Will's side. Even Mrs. Carter was intensely interested, and forgot to refrain from showing it. Mr. Hand looked on with a swelling sense of benevolence. He had anticipated no such delightful sensations.

With his pocketknife Will opened the envelope very carefully along the end. With nervous fingers he drew out a legal document, with red seals and several smaller documents attached.

For a moment the legal verbiage of the instruments bewildered him. Then he exclaimed:

"Why, it's the mortgage! I don't exactly understand! O, Mr. Hand, this is too good of you. You relinquish the mortgage, the whole debt, for nothing. That is too generous, really!"

Mrs. Carter was a little overwhelmed. She rose to try and mingle thanks and protestations, but Mr. Hand cut her short.

"O no, William," he explained, "you have not read all the papers! You will see that I have not released the mortgage at all. I have made it over to another person, to you, that's all. This farm is still under mortgage, but you, William, are now the mortgagee. I have nothing more to do with the matter at all. The claim is all yours, with some two hundred and fifteen dollars arrears of interest, which you must collect for yourself the best way you can. But if I may, I would like to intercede for your good mother now, and beg you not to be too severe!"

Mr. Hand chuckled, as he gazed on the mystified faces about him. Then Will sprang forward and grasped his hand. He could not find words to express his gratitude. They simply would not come.

"Then we're not going to be sold out?" cried Ted.

"Not unless William sells you out for the amount of the mortgage. Ask him," replied Mr. Hand.

Such an act of generosity on the part of "old Hand" deprived even the impetuous Ted of his powers of expression. But Mrs. Carter found words.

"Really, Mr. Hand," she said, and her voice trembled with deep feeling. "I wish I could make you see how we appreciate your noble generosity. I wish you could see how bitterly I reproach myself for the injustice I have done you in the past. However hard and merciless you may have seemed to me, I must have grossly misunderstood you; for only a good and generous heart could prompt you to such an action as this. Neither I nor my sons can even pretend to thank you. We feel your kindness too deeply."

"Mother hits it exactly. That's what I wanted to say, only somehow I couldn't, Mr. Hand," said Will.

"But will you not let us hope we may be honored with your friendship in the future?" continued Mrs. Carter. "You must often be lonely at home, and I should be so pleased to see your little grandson here whenever you can manage to bring him."

"That's so," exclaimed Ted. "I want to see the young hero that fed Will Hen Baizley's dinner to the fishes. He's the one we have to thank for the present jolly state of affairs!"

Mr. Hand was overflowing with good will. Moreover, he was hugely flattered by Mrs. Carter's words and manner. In his heart he attached an extravagant importance to the accidents of pedigree. He was struggling to utter his appreciation of Mrs. Carter's proffered friendship, when there came a knock at the front door. It was Jim Hutchings, whom Mr. Hand had left outside to hold the horse.

"There's somebuddy a-goin' to set your barn afire," he whispered eagerly. "Come quiet, an' we'll ketch him in the act!"

"Fetch a pail of water, Ted," said Will, with prompt presence of mind, running upstairs for his gun.

While he was gone Mr. Hand asked Hutchings how he knew of it.

"I thought I seen a chap slide behind the barn, so I jest hitched the hoss an' crep' over to see what he was up ter," explained Hutchings.

As the boys and Hutchings, followed discreetly by Mrs. Carter and Mr. Hand, emerged from the back door, a glimmer of flame appeared behind the stable. There was a swift rush, and Ted dashed out the growing flame with his bucket of water. At the same moment Will and Jim Hutchings threw themselves upon a man who was just fanning the flame into vigor.

The stranger sprang up, and a revolver shot rang out upon the night. On the instant a blow from Will's gunstock brought him to the ground, and Hutchings grabbed the revolver. "Now keep still, or it'll be the worse for you," said Will. "Ted, bring a rope."

Partly stunned, or realizing that resistance was useless, the stranger lay still with one arm over his face. Presently Ted came back with the rope and a lantern.

"If it isn't Will Hen Baizley back again!" exclaimed Hutchings.

"Thought you'd get even with me before the ship sailed, eh?" inquired Will, amiably.

"Well," said Mr. Hand, "I'll see that he is taken care of for a good while in the penitentiary. Tie him up so he can't make trouble, and we'll drive him right over to the jail now."

Baizley could not be induced to utter a word, so he was put into the wagon, where Hutchings held him while Mr. Hand took the reins. As he bid good night, Mr. Hand said to Will:

"By the way, William, if you decide to sell your mother out, you had better see the sheriff pretty soon. There'll be some costs, and fees, and so forth, that you'll have to pay, you know."

"All right," laughed Will, happily. "I guess I can manage. I'm pretty rich now, you know."

The boys stood at the garden gate with their arms linked to their mother's and listened to the wagon as it clattered away. Then the rushing of the flood tide, washing up to their dikes, attracted their attention.

"The tide's coming in for us, dear boys," said Mrs. Carter. "How lovely the creek sounds to-night! Surely God has been very good to us, and the prospect, that was so dark a while ago, has become very bright and happy."

"Fifteen hundred dollars' worth of new marsh at least," said Will, joyously, "and no debt on the farm, no foreclosure, no sheriff's sale! You, muz and Ted, I verily believe I'll have to sell you out after all, to keep you from getting too big!"

"Say, old man, let's yell!" exclaimed Ted.

"All right!" began Will; but their mother laid her hands over their mouths.

"O, no! no!" she pleaded "What would the neighbors think—and Mr. Hand?"

THE END.