Mrs. Marshall gathered that
it was some sort of secret society, and that they had signed an oath
in their own blood not to tell.
"Johnny is at the bottom of it," she thought, laughing as she went
back to the house. "He has set the other boys to sewing in order to
forestall them. Now they cannot tease him, should they hear of his
private quilt-piecing."
[Illustration]
Another week went by of peaceful, uninterrupted evenings, and every
night at bedtime Johnny counted out his tale of finished blocks with
a sigh of relief. On the second Saturday evening he disappeared
immediately after supper. It was nearly an hour later when he came
tumbling excitedly into the house.
"Look, mother! Look, everybody!" he exclaimed. "It's all done! Here
are the three hundred and fifty blocks all in one pile. Now, I'm ready
for my money, mother."
"Why, Johnny!" gasped Mrs. Marshall, in astonishment. "It isn't
possible you have done them all in two short weeks!"
"Here they are," answered Johnny, smiling broadly. "Todd got in a
hurry for his money, and I was so everlasting tired of the old
patchwork that I had to think of some plan; so I farmed out two
hundred of the blocks at a quarter of a cent apiece.
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