“Yes, thirteen hundred.  My young friend, Rodney Ropes, and myself managed it between us.”

“I am glad to see you, Mr. Ropes.  Come in both of you.  Mrs. Canfield will be glad to welcome you.”

They followed him into the sitting room, the floor of which was covered by an old and faded carpet.  The furniture was of the plainest description.  But it looked pleasant and homelike, and the papers and books that were scattered about made it more attractive to a visitor than many showy city drawing rooms.

“And how are all your children, Mr. Canfield?” asked Jefferson.

“Maria is married to a worthy young man in the next town.  Benjamin is employed in a book store, and Austin wants to go to college, but I don’t see any way to send him, poor boy!” and the minister sighed softly.

“Does it cost much to keep a boy in college?”

“Not so much as might be supposed.  There are beneficiary funds for deserving students, and then there is teaching to eke out a poor young man’s income, so that I don’t think it would cost over a hundred and fifty dollars a year.”

“That isn’t a large sum.”

“Not in itelf, but you know, Jefferson, my salary is only four hundred dollars a year.  It would take nearly half my income, so I think Austin will have to give up his hopes of going to college and follow in his brother’s steps.”

“How old is Austin now?”

“He is eighteen.”

“Is he ready for college?”

“Yes, he could enter at the next commencement but for the financial problem.”

“I never had any taste for college, or study, as you know, Mr. Canfield.  It is different with my friend Rodney, who is a Latin and Greek scholar.”

The minister regarded Rodney with new interest.

“Do you think of going to college, Mr. Ropes?” he asked.

“Not at present.  I am going back to Montana with Mr. Pettigrew.  Perhaps he and I will both go to college next year.”

“Excuse me,” said Jefferson Pettigrew.  “Latin and Greek ain’t in my line.  I should make a good deal better miner than minister.”

“It is not desirable that all should become ministers or go to college,” said Mr. Canfield.  “I suspect from what I know of you, Jefferson, that you judge yourself correctly.  How long shall you stay in Burton?”

“I expect to go away tomorrow.”

“Your visit is a brief one.”

“Yes, I intended to stay longer, but I begin to be homesick after the West.”

“Do you expect to make your permanent home there?”

“I can’t tell as to that.  For the present I can do better there than here.”

The conversation lasted for some time.  Then Jefferson Pettigrew rose to go.

“Won’t you call again, Jefferson?” asked the minister hospitably.

“I shall not have time, but before I go I want to make you a small present,” and he put into the hands of the astonished minister four fifty dollar bills.