"Yes, mother; I went out gunning, and did an errand for old Anthony, who is laid up with the rheumatism in his cabin."
"Poor man! I hope he won't suffer."
"Thanks to me, he probably will not."
"What can you do for him, Mark? You have no money to spare."
"Haven't I, mother?" asked Mark, with a smile, as he drew from his pocket a large handful of silver and gold.
"What do you say to that?"
"Oh, Mark! I hope you came honestly by that money," said the widow, nervously.
"I haven't been robbing a bank, if that's what you mean, mother. I couldn't very well, as there is none within ten miles."
"Then, Mark, where did the money come from?"
"It belongs to old Anthony. He asked me to take charge of it, as I shall need to be buying things for him in the village for a few days to come."