The old farmer stopped and patted her head, and then sat down to milk. One day he said,
"Want to earn some money, Marty?"
Marty's head swam. With money she could see Tim. Her face flushed faintly.
"Yes, sir," she said.
"Well, you pick up the pumpkins in the corn-lot and load 'em on the wagon every day, and I'll give you one load."
There were a great many loads of pumpkins, and it was very hard lifting for Marty; but she worked bravely, because she remembered Tim. She could have finished the loading much sooner if Aunt Tucker hadn't called her so often—Aunt Tucker didn't like the pumpkin idea; she said she didn't believe in children having money. But now, after weeks of work, the last load stood in the field.
"Thet's yours," Uncle Eb had said, quietly.
And that is why Marty's heart was almost bursting with joy.
The Tuckers were up at sunrise the next morning. For Uncle Eb was going to town with Marty's pumpkins.
"You're foolish to whim thet child," said Aunt Tucker, complainingly; "you're treating her better'n you do yer own kith an' kin."