“Now, good by, Robert.”

“Good by,” repeated Ellen.

“Good by.”

Mr. Bayard drove off, leaving Bobby standing on the bridge with the gold pieces in his hand.

“Here’s luck!” said Bobby, shaking the coin.  “Won’t mother’s eyes stick out when she sees these shiners?  There are no such shiners in the river as these.”

Bobby was astonished, and the more he gazed at the gold pieces, the more bewildered he became.  He had never held so much money in his hand before.  There were three large coins and one smaller one.  He turned them over and over, and finally ascertained that the large coins were ten dollar pieces, and the smaller one a five dollar piece.  Bobby was not a great scholar, but he knew enough of arithmetic to calculate the value of his treasure.  He was so excited, however, that he did not arrive at the conclusion half so quick as most of my young readers would have done.

“Thirty-five dollars!” exclaimed Bobby, when the problem was solved.  “Gracious!”

“Hallo, Bob!” shouted Tom Spicer, who had got tired of fishing; besides, the village clock was just striking twelve, and it was time for him to go home.

Bobby made no answer, but hastily tying the gold pieces up in the corner of his handkerchief, he threw the broken rail he had used in stopping the horse where it belonged, and started for the place where he had left his fishing apparatus.

“Hallo, Bob!”

“Well, Tom?”

“Stopped him—­didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“You were a fool; he might have killed you.”

“So he might; but I didn’t stop to think of that.  The lady’s life was in danger.”

“What of that?”

“Every thing, I should say.”

“Did he give you any thing?”

“Yes;” and Bobby continued his walk down to the river’s side.

“I say, what did he give you, Bobby?” persisted Tom, following him.

“O, he gave me a good deal of money.”

“How much?”

“I want to get my fish line now; I will tell you all about it some other time,” replied Bobby, who rather suspected the intentions of his companion.

“Tell me now; how much was it?”

“Never mind it now.”

“Humph!  Do you think I mean to rob you?”

“No.”

“Ain’t you going halveses?”

“Why should I?”

“Wasn’t I with you?”

“Were you?”

“Wasn’t I fishing with you?”

“You did not do any thing about stopping the horse.”

“I would, if I hadn’t been afraid to go up to the road.”

“Afraid?”

“Somebody might have seen me, and they would have known that I was hooking jack.”

“Then you ought not to share the money.”

“Yes, I had.  When a fellow is with you, he ought to have half.  It is mean not to give him half.”

“If you had done any thing to help stop the horse, I would have shared with you.  But you didn’t.”