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 "Where's our money?" demanded a discontented voice from the crowd.

Then Charlie, filled with the lust of revenge, proposed that the company should sack the place.

"We can't see the color of our money," he said pithily, "but we can have our own back."

That settled it. The battle was over. The most skillful general must sometimes recognize defeat. I could do nothing further with them. I had done my best for the farm. I could do no more.

I lit my pipe and strolled into the paddock.

Chaos followed. Indoors and out of doors they raged without check. Even Beale gave the thing up. He knocked Charlie into a flower bed and then disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

It was growing dusk. From inside the house came faint sounds of mirth, as the