Half-past nine came, and with it a loud snap which proved to proceed from the saw block of lame Joey Wilson. As Joey was a very pleasant little fellow, with a widowed mother whose lot in life was not the easiest, another boy, who had a saw, pressed it upon Joey, and thus honorably retired from a contest which had kept his back aching frightfully for nearly an hour. Then two or three other boys honestly acknowledged themselves completely used up, and they retired to such shade as the fence afforded and constituted themselves an invalid corps of observation. The loafer who had drank the whiskey dropped suddenly, muttered something about sunstroke, and crawled away unlamented by any one.

At the cry of "Ten o'clock!" the working force had dwindled to twenty-seven axes and two saws. Two boys had been legitimately summoned from the field by their legal guardians, and at least half a dozen others longed earnestly for a similar fate. Jack began to be doubtful of the entire success of his scheme, but the country boys all stuck manfully to business, and at least one of them was beginning to show signs of becoming excited. The remaining loafers, too, hung on very well, and so did a spare half dozen of other boys, mostly large. The crowd was still large and industrious enough to astonish several farmers who drove into town, and the road became literally paved with chips. The invalid corps increased at about the rate of four men an hour between ten and eleven, but by this time Jack's mind was easy, for the only danger was that there would not be wood enough left with which the fittest who survived could complete the half day. Nearly all the loafers broke down, as loafers always do during the decisive hour, and the strife narrowed down to the country boys, one loafer, big Frank Parker, lame Joey Wilson and Jack. Each boy had his special adherents; the loafers cheered their own representative with much outlandish language, most of the men encouraged the country boys, the delegation from the other side of town urged big Frank Parker to "lay himself out," to "come down lively," to "sling himself," and to do many other things which to the youthful mind seem best signified by idioms of great peculiarity, but the mass of sympathy was pretty equally divided between Jack and lame Joey Wilson. Eligible sticks of wood began to be sought at the piles of those who had abandoned the contest, and Matt the umpire had to exert the extreme measure of his authority to prevent the partizans of the two favorites from rushing in and carrying wood for them. The breaking of the axe-helve of one of the country boys elicited a tremendous roar from the entire assemblage, which was now upon its feet. The lame Joey Wilson faction began to sing the chorus "Go in lemons, if you do get squeezed," which was known to be Joey's favorite air and the song stimulated Joey wonderfully, noting which fact the adherents of Jack started "John Brown's body lies mouldering in the grave," which Jack was known to consider the finest thing ever written. But somehow the tune did not stimulate Jack as it was expected to do; perhaps the words with which the air is indissolubly associated had a depressing effect upon him, besides, the two songs were roared with about equal volume of sound, and as they are written in different keys, measures, and time, the general effect was horribly discordant and annoying to a tired man.

At half past eleven the remaining sticks, like angels' visits, became far between, and finally dwindled to one, over which two of the country boys fought, dropping it in their struggle, to be triumphantly snatched and sawed by lame Joey Wilson. Then Matt, the umpire, first ascertaining from his sister's watch that it was not yet twelve o'clock, announced that any man might take a stick from any other man who had uncut sticks before him. At thirteen minutes of twelve, five of the six country boys were upon their last sticks and the other had a single stick yet uncut before him, which seemed to lie between Jack and lame Joey Wilson. Jack's axe glanced several times and Joey got the stick, and at precisely ten minutes before twelve Joey had the last stick reposing in three pieces upon his pile. The whole crowd rushed in, but Matt shouted—

"Everybody get back—quick—get back! every man piles his own wood!"

Some little delay occasioned by the difficulty of getting stakes against which to stake the piles which seemed largest, was ended by an order to pile against the fence. It was generally admitted, by every one but the country boys, that the decision must be between Jack and Joey, and as Jack was quick upon his feet and Joey, an account of his lame leg, was slow, the former was allowed to assist the latter, but no one noticed that Jack took considerable wood from the piles of the boys who had been unsuccessful with the saw; the result was that Joey's pile was so much the larger that no one insisted upon a measurement, and Matt handed the half dollar to lame Joey Wilson without a protest from any one, though the shouts that went up formed a conglomerate sound which was truly appalling to any adult ear which it reached.

Then the boys separated and started homeward with their respective axes, saws, and saw-horses. Dr. Wittingham met several of them, as he returned at an earlier hour than Jack had expected from his consultation. What to make of the unusual number of business looking boys he did not know, but as he went around to the wood-pile to see how his son had begun his self-imposed penalty, the truth dawned upon him, and he exclaimed:

"I've used every evening this week upon that chapter of heredity, and now it isn't worth the paper it's written on!"

CHAPTER V.
EXPERIMENTS IN GRAVITATION.

As June disappeared in the beginning of July, the long vacation of the Doveton schools began, and with it began Dr. Wittingham's special and particular annual annoyance, which consisted of keeping Jack out of mischief. To compel the boy to work all the while was something at which the good doctor's heart naturally revolted, but it seemed that when Jack was unoccupied even for half an hour an indignant complaint by some one was absolutely sure to follow. The doctor was not the only man who had charge of a boy of mischieveous tendencies, so there was considerable private jubilation among parents when a lone foreigner strayed into the town, announced himself as a Polish exile, and offered to carry a class in French through the summer vacation. The French language was not held in intelligent esteem by all Doveton parents, but every one of them understood the value of peace of mind, so within forty-eight hours the exile was guaranteed an eight weeks class of twenty boys, at six dollars per boy, and was granted the upper floor of one of the schoolhouses free of rent.