And Jud Carpenter went back to town and spread the report that the old man was a maniac, that he had lost his mind since Shiloh came so near dying.
The problem which confronted the old man was serious.
“O Jack, Jack,” he said one night, “if I jes' had some of that gold you had!”
Jack replied by laying ten silver dollars in the old man's hand.
“I earned it,”—he said simply—“this week—shoeing horses—it's the sweetest money I ever got.”
“Why, Jack,” said the Bishop—“this will feed us for a week. Come here, Tabitha,” he called cheerily—“come an' see what happens to them that cast their bread upon the waters. We tuck in this outcast an' now behold our bread come back ag'in.”
The old woman came up and took it gingerly. She bit each dollar to test it, remarking finally: “Why, hit's genuwine!”—
Jack laughed.
“Why, hit's mo' money'n I've seed fur years,” she said—“I won't hafter hunt fur 'sang roots to-morrow.”
“Jack,” said the Bishop, after the others had retired, and the two men sat in Captain Tom's cabin—“Jack, I've been thinkin' an' thinkin'—I must make some money.”