"Now, Pa, please don't get excited again," pleaded Minnie, whose face showed that she had suffered as much, or more, as had her parent.

"Ain't no use to get excited now. The money is gone, and I suppose that is the last of it. What I'm worryin' about is how I'm goin' to settle about that mortgage. Grisley at first said he would put it off, but yesterday he sent word that he was comin' here to-day with his lawyer to settle things."

"And here they come now!" interrupted Minnie, as she glanced out of a window. The others looked and saw two men drive up the lane in a cutter.

They were old Henry Grisley, the man who held the mortgage on the farm, and Belright Fogg. The girl went to the door to let the visitors in. Old Henry Grisley paid scant attention to Tom when the two were introduced to each other. The lawyer looked at the visitor in some astonishment.

"Huh! I didn't expect to see you here, Mr. Rover," said Belright Fogg, coolly. "Are you mixed up in this unfortunate affair?"

"I may be before we get through," answered Tom.

"You weren't the young man who lost the money?"

"No."

"I've got an account to settle with your brother," went on Belright Fogg, rather maliciously. "He took great pleasure the other day in hitting me in the head with a s...o...b..ll, almost knocking me senseless.

I've had to have my head treated by a doctor, and more than likely I'll sue him for damages."

"I reckon you'll do what you can to make it hot for him," returned Tom.

"It's your way, Mr. Fogg. But just let me give you a word of advice--you take care that you don't get your fingers burnt."

"Ha! Is that a threat?"

"Oh, no. It is only a word of advice. Please to remember that we know all about you, and we won't stand any nonsense from you. If my brother really hurt you, he'll be willing to do the fair thing; but if you think you can gouge him in any way, you've got another guess coming."

"Looky!" came in a shrill voice from old Henry Grisley. "I thought we come here fer my money on that er mortgage," and from under a pair of heavy gray eyebrows he looked searchingly into the faces of Mr.

Sanderson and the lawyer.

"Yes, Mr. Grisley, that's what we came for," returned Belright Fogg, "and the sooner we come to business perhaps the better."

"As I've told you before, the money is gone--stolen," said Mr.

Sanderson. "I can't pay--at least not now, and I'd like an extension of time."

"Mr. Grisley isn't inclined to grant any extension," said Belright Fogg, somewhat pompously. "The mortgage is too big for this place anyway, and he feels that he ought to have his money."

"And if Mr. Sanderson can't pay, what then?" questioned Tom, before the farmer could speak.

"Why, we'll have to foreclose and sell the place," answered the lawyer, quickly.

"That's it! That's it!" came shrilly from old Henry Grisley. "I want my money--every cent of it. If I don't git it, I'm goin' to take the farm,"

he added in tones which were almost triumphant.

"But see here----" began Mr. Sanderson.

"Oh, Pa, don't let them sell the farm!" burst out Minnie, and as she spoke the tears started to her eyes.

"You won't sell the farm, Mr. Grisley," said Tom, coolly.

"Why not, if the money isn't paid?" cried the old man.

"The money will be paid--every cent of it," answered Tom.

CHAPTER XII

OLD GRISLEY COMES TO TERMS

All in the room looked at Tom in some surprise because of the plain way in which he had spoken.

"Mr. Rover, you are sure of what you are saying?" questioned Mr.

Sanderson, quickly, in a low voice.

"Yes, Mr. Sanderson, we'll take care of this mortgage. Don't you worry a bit about it."

"Did you say you would pay off this mortgage?" demanded Belright Fogg, glaring at Tom.

"I didn't say I'd pay it off personally. But my folks will take care of it."

"The money is due now--has been due for several days."

"Yes, sir, that's right!" came shrilly from Henry Grisley. "And I want you to know that I want the full amount with interest up to the day when it is paid. I ain't goin' to lose nothin'--not a cent."

"Mr. Grisley, I have an offer to make to you," went on Tom addressing himself directly to the old man and utterly ignoring Belright Fogg. "You don't know me, but let me say that my father and my uncle are worth a good deal of money. I am in business in New York with my father, and our concern has a great deal of money to invest. Now, if you will agree to hold this mortgage for thirty days, I will guarantee to have it paid in full at that time with every cent of interest. And in addition to that I will pay you twenty-five dollars for your trouble and for your lawyer's fees."

"Ha! What do you think I am? What do you think I work for?" demanded Belright Fogg, with a scowl. "My fee will be more than twenty-five dollars in this case."

"What? What?" shrilled Henry Grisley, turning his beadlike eyes on the lawyer. "Twenty-five dollars? Not much! I'll give ye ten dollars and not a cent more."

"That's the way to talk, Mr. Grisley. You give him ten dollars and you keep the fifteen dollars for your own trouble," cried Tom. "So far as I can see he hasn't done anything for you excepting to come here to see Mr. Sanderson, and certainly such a trip as this isn't worth more than ten dollars."

"My services are worth a good deal more!" exclaimed Belright Fogg. And thereupon ensued a war of words between him and Henry Grisley which lasted the best part of a quarter of an hour. The lawyer saw the case slipping away from him, and at last in deep disgust he said he would have no more to do with the affair.

"Don't want ye to! Don't want ye to!" piped out Henry Grisley. "Lawyers are a useless expense anyway. I'll settle this case myself, and for what you've done I won't pay more'n ten dollars, jest remember it!" and he shook a long, bony finger in Belright Fogg's face.

"I won't be insulted in this manner!" cried the lawyer, and then in a dudgeon he stormed from the house, leaped into the cutter, and drove away.

"A good riddance to him," murmured Mr. Sanderson. But then he added hastily: "Was that your horse, Grisley?"

"No, it wasn't," was the answer. "And how I'm to git home now, I don't know," added the old man, helplessly.

"Where do you live?" questioned Tom.

"The other side of Ashton, on the Millbury road."

"All right, then, I'll take you there when I go down to the depot,"

answered Tom. "That is, if you want to ride with me."