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the canoe. Caddie helped him pull the poles in to shore. He had managed to salvage most of the pins,too, and the two of them put the raft together once again.
    â€œWell, I guess we’re even, Uncle Edmund,” said Caddie, gravely smiling. She held out her small, brown hand.
    Uncle Edmund shook it heartily, but he said: “No, Caddie, we’re not even yet. I promised you a silver dollar.”
    â€œYou said if I beat you to the end of the lake on the raft, or if I wouldn’t tell Mother. But I didn’t beat you and I am going to tell Mother.”
    â€œYes, yes, of course,” said Uncle Edmund hastily, “but this dollar is just burning a hole in my pocket, my dear. Here, take it. It belongs to you.”
    Suddenly Caddie felt the weight of a silver dollar in the pocket of her dress. She put her hand in her pocket and the silver dollar felt warm and round to her fingers.
    â€œThank you, Uncle Edmund,” she said.
    They gathered up the game bag and the gun, and started for home. Their three figures were silhouetted against the sunset, Caddie, Nero, and Uncle Edmund, and their three shadows trailed far out behind them. Uncle Edmund, with a lulled conscience, was whistling. But Caddie’s mind was busy with the many, many ways in which one could spend a silver dollar.

5. Nero, Farewell!
    â€œSay, I’d take a ducking every day in the week and twice on Sunday, for a silver dollar,” remarked Tom enviously.
    â€œCaddie, they’ve got bully tops in the store at Dunnville,” added Warren hopefully.
    Everybody had thought of a splendid way for Caddie to spend her dollar.
    â€œYou ought to buy yourself some gloves, Sister,” said Clara. “You’ve never had proper ones and your hands look like an Indian’s.”
    â€œOh, Caddie, get a doll, please do,” begged Hetty, “one of those china-headed ones with pink cheeks and blue eyes, and little china boots with high heels.”
    Little Minnie thought that the whole dollar should be spent on striped stick candy, and the boys were all for marbles and tops.
    â€œBetter keep it until Christmas, my child,” advised Mrs. Woodlawn.
    But Mr. Woodlawn said: “Leave the child alone. She has a wise head on her shoulders. She will know how to spend her money wisely when the time comes.”
    Caddie said nothing. But she put her dollar away in the little wooden trinket box which Father had made for her. Her head was full of plans—so many that she could not yet choose among them.
    It was the evening before Uncle Edmund’s departure. A sharp wind blew about the house, to remind them that even Indian summer must come to an end at last. Warm and cozy indoors, the Woodlawn family sat about the dining-room table. The supper cloth had been removed with the dishes, and a homespun cloth of red and white had taken its place with a lamp in the middle. The lamp was still rather wonderful to the little Woodlawns. They remembered when Father had first brought it home to replace the candles, and how they had all stood around to see it lighted and hear Father explain its use. Tonight by the light of the lamp Mrs. Woodlawn and Clara were darning, Mr. Woodlawn was mending a clock, and Uncle Edmundwas cleaning his gun. The younger children sat about his feet near the fire, twisting bits of paper into the lighters which were used whenever possible instead of the precious sulphur matches.
    Nero lay between Caddie and Uncle Edmund, his head pressed against Caddie’s knee, his eyes opening from time to time to gaze in sleepy adoration at Uncle Edmund. He was completely happy here by the fire, between the two people he loved best. When he heard his name spoken, he raised his head and looked about. Uncle Edmund was saying: “There’s one thing I want to ask you, Harriet. It’s about Nero. Be a good sister, and let me take him back to St. Louis with me.” Caddie and Tom sat up straight to listen. They