"Sure, sure," Abner agreed. "It was all right, Belle, so long as ye'r letters was somewhat along the lines ye wrote to ye'r dad."
"What makes you think they were, Mr. Andrews?"
"The spirits of me ancestors tell me that you had a hand in that sermon Mr. Parker gave us last Sunday night. Ain't I right?"
"You are," Rivers replied, as Belle hesitated. "And I am very glad that Belle gave the information which brought forth that sermon. It roused the best thinking people in Glucom to action, and that was partly the reason why I remained in town last night."
"What did they do?" Abner eagerly asked.
"They got down to business, and decided to purchase a large, commodious house as a temporary orphanage. The necessary money was raised in a short time, and I am confident that the Government will make a liberal grant toward the running expenses."
"Ye don't tell!" Abner was now leaning over the table, unheeding his wife's chiding looks. "An' they won't need Hen Whittles' dump?"
"No, not at all," Rivers laughed. "He can keep his dump as long as he likes for himself, Rackshaw and the others who were scrambling after a rake-off in the matter. The ones who are connected with the orphanage scheme now are men and women upon whom we can depend, and who mean business."
"An' will they want our kids?" Abner asked.
"Not for a few weeks yet. You may have them a while longer until matters are arranged. All I was talking to last night and to-day were very high in their praise of what you have done for those children you now have under your care."