“What have I said?” asked Jack, a little frightened at the effect of his words.  “Aunt Rachel takes one up so.”

“He didn’t mean anything,” said Mrs. Crump.  “How could you suspect such a thing?  But here’s a letter.  It looks as if there was something in it.  Here, Timothy, it is directed to you.”

Mr. Cooper opened the letter, and read as follows:—­

“For reasons which it is unnecessary to state, the guardians of this child find it expedient to (sic) intrust it to others to be brought up.  The good opinion which they have formed of you, has led them to select you for that charge.  No further explanation is necessary, except that it is by no means their object to make this a service of charity.  They therefore (sic) inclose a certificate of deposits on the Broadway Bank, of three hundred dollars, the same having been made in your name.  Each year, while the child remains in your charge, the same sum will in like manner be placed to your credit at the same bank It may be as well to state, farther, that all attempts to fathom whatever of mystery may attach to this affair, will prove useless.”

This letter was read in silent amazement.

The certificate of deposits, which had fallen to the floor, was handed to Timothy by his wife.

Amazement was followed by a feeling of gratitude and relief.

“What could be more fortunate?” exclaimed Mrs. Crump.  “Surely, Timothy, our faith has been rewarded.”

“God has listened to our cry,” said the cooper, devoutly; “and, in the hour of our need, He has remembered us.”

“Isn’t it prime?” said Jack, gleefully; “three hundred dollars!  Ain’t we rich, Aunt Rachel?”

“Like as not,” observed Rachel, “the certificate isn’t genuine.  It doesn’t look natural it should be.  I’ve heard of counterfeits before.  I shouldn’t be surprised at all if Timothy got taken up for presenting it.”

“I’ll risk that,” said Mr. Crump, who did not look very much depressed by this suggestion.

“Now you’ll be able to pay the rent, Timothy,” said Mrs. Crump, cheerfully.

“Yes; and it’s the last quarter I shall pay to Mr. Colman, if I can help it.”

“Why, where are you going?” inquired Jack.

“To the corner house belonging to Mr. Harrison, that is, if it is not already engaged.  I think I will go and see about it at once.  If Mr. Colman should come in while I am gone, tell him I will be back directly; I don’t wish you to tell him of the change in our circumstances.”

The cooper found Mr. Harrison at home.

“I called to inquire,” commenced the cooper, “whether you had let that house of yours on the corner of the street.”

“Not as yet,” was the reply.

“What rent do you ask?”

“Twenty dollars a quarter,” said Mr. Harrison; “that I consider reasonable.”

“It is satisfactory to me,” was the cooper’s reply, “and, if you have no objections to me as a tenant, I will engage it at once.”