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��WON AT LAST.

��the box standing in the little closet open- ing from his room, and which contained all his valuable papers, including the note given him by Samuel Black, besides all the money he possessed. When he did think of it he gave one cry, " My pa- pers—they are lost! " and started to re- enter the doomed house, but strong hands held him back. It would have been the height of madness to have en- tered the building then, which soon, with a crash, fell in, burning with it the coveted box. The buildings, not being insured, were of course a total loss. The fire caught in the barn, but whether the accidental work of a tramp, or purposely done by some one else, was never ascer- tained, although efforts were made to discover its origin.

Like one in a dream, Deacon Gordon suffered himself to be led away from the smoking ruins by his weeping wife and daughter. A kind neighbor welcomed the homeless family. Mrs. Gordon was completely prostrated by the shock, while Fannie thought with regret how she had disliked the old house. At least it had been a shelter and home for them, and now they were homeless and penni- less.

Upon the afternoon following the fire the Deacon went over to Samuel Black's store. There were several of the villa- gers there, lounging about the store and talking of the fire. Various were the surmises as to how it had caught. When the Deacon eutered the conversation was stopped, however. Mr. Black sat behind the counter, hi -, feet perched upon a stool, reading a newspaper ; his face flushed as the Deacon approached him.

" Mr. Black, I have called to see if you would not let me have a little money. I am homeless, as you are aware, and, with the exception of the money loaned you, penniless. I must have the whole amount as soon as possible, but will give you a few days in which to obtain it, if you do not happen to be prepared."

Deacon Gordon spoke quietly and pleasantly, but a close observer could have seen a nervous tremor in the hands resting upon the counter. Mr. Black arose slowly to his feet, a strange ex- pression crossing his face.

��" Deacon Gordon, I do not understand you. I thought I had paid you your due."

" Paid me my due! In Heaven's name and for the sake of my wife and daugh- ter, do not try to cheat me out of my hard-earned money, Samuel Black ! " cried the Deacon, his pale face growing paler.

"Deacon Gordon, I can assign only one reason for your strange behavior, which is this — your loss last night has turned your brain." Mr. Black's voice was pitying and low as he said this.

" I am not crazy, and you know it," re- turned the Deacon sternly.

"Indeed! then if 1 do owe you, you will please show these gentlemen the note which I gave you at the time I bor- rowed the money," returned the mer- chant sneeringly.

With a groan that came from the depths of his heart. Deacon Gordon turned around and gazed upon the men sitting there, his eyes full of the keenest anguish. He remembered now of hav- ing told two different men that Black was to pay him the Saturday before. He had hoped for and expected the mon- ey, as Black had promised faithfully to pay it. but, as the reader already knows, he had failed to keep his promise, and the Deacon had nothing to prove that he had not done as he agreed.

He said no more, but turning left the store, his trembling limbs hardly able to support him. Indeed, he seemed a com- plete wreck, and his best friends, passing him in the street, would have failed to recognize in the bent and tottering fig- ure the once erect form of Deacon Gor- don. There had been a spectator to this little scene that neither the Deacon nor Mr. Black had observed. Ralph Carey had entered the store soon after the Dea- con, and seeing who stood at the coun- ter, had stepped one side and stood screened from view by a pile of boxes, his object being a desire not to be seen by the Deacon. As the door closed be- hind his retreating form, Ralph ap- proached the merchant, and looking him sternly in the face, said :

" When did you pay Deacon Gordon the money?"

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