"They wuzn't uppish--not to speak of," Mary agreed. "I guess that girl's
got more gumption than any of 'em. She's got 'em straightened up now and I
guess she'll take care they don't cut up no more monkey-shines about that
Chinese stuff. Her husban' seemed sort o' gentle like."

"Artists is that way," volunteered The Hopper, as though from deep
experience of art and life. "I jes' been thinkin' that knowin' folks like
that an' findin' 'em humin, makin' mistakes like th' rest of us, kind o'
makes ut seem easier fer us all t' play th' game straight. Ut's goin' to
be th' white card fer me--jes' chickens an' eggs, an' here's hopin' the
bulls don't ever find out we're settled here."

Humpy, having gone into the parlor to tend the fire, returned with two
envelopes he had found on the mantel. There was a check for a thousand
dollars in each, one from Wilton, the other from Talbot, with "Merry
Christmas" written across the visiting-cards of those gentlemen. The
Hopper permitted Mary and Humpy to examine them and then laid them on the
kitchen table, while he deliberated. His meditations were so prolonged
that they grew nervous.

"I reckon they could spare ut, after all ye done fer 'em, Hop," remarked
Humpy.

"They's millionaires, an' money ain't nothin' to 'em," said The Hopper.

"We can buy a motor-truck," suggested Mary, "to haul our stuff to town;
an' mebbe we can build a new shed to keep ut in."

The Hopper set the catsup bottle on the checks and rubbed his cheek,