The squire had expected to hold a quiet talk with the keeper of the general store, and he was much disappointed to learn that this was to be denied to him.

However, he put on a bold front, and approached Uriah without hesitation, just as the latter looked up.

"Why, here is Squire Paget now!" exclaimed Uriah d.i.c.ks. "Squire, you are just the man I want to see!"

"I can say the same for you," returned the squire, with a sharp glance at Ralph.

"I got a twenty-dollar bill from your son yesterday, and it looks like it was going to make trouble for me," went on the storekeeper.

"It has already made enough trouble for me," retorted the squire, pointedly.

"Squire Paget, this is Mr. Kelsey, the gentleman that gave me the twenty-dollar bill," put in Ralph.

"Humph! He might have given you a twenty-dollar bill, but this is not the one," growled the squire.

"I believe it is, sir," said Horace Kelsey.

"You do?"

"Yes, sir. It is, as you see, a new one, issued by the First National Bank of Chambersburgh. That is the bank at which I drew it."

"It's all rot!" roared the squire. "My son Percy received that bill, and in Chambersburgh, too!" he added, suddenly. "He said so last night."

Again Ralph's hopes fell. He had felt almost certain that his city friend would be able to prove the property, but now this supposed proof amounted to little or nothing.

"But that grease spot----" he began.

"A story invented by yourself," interrupted Squire Paget. "It is more than likely that the grease spot was on the bill when my son received it."

"Did your son receive the bill at the bank?" questioned Horace Kelsey.

"I don't know--I suppose he did," stammered the squire.

There was an awkward pause. Uriah d.i.c.ks drummed uneasily upon the counter, where lay the bill in dispute.

"One thing is certain," said Uriah. "I took the bill in good faith, and I ain't a-goin' to lose on it, mind that."

"You shan't lose on it, Uriah," replied the squire. "My son gave it to you, and it was his bill. You keep it, and I'll take young Nelson in hand. He has concocted this story for a purpose."

"A purpose, eh?" queried the storekeeper.

"Exactly. He knows that he is in danger of losing his situation, and it is his endeavor to get me and my son in his power, so we will influence others to help him keep him in his place."

"I don't see what I have done to lose the job on the bridge," said Ralph, his cheeks growing red.

"I thought he was doin' well enough," put in Uriah.

"He is a regular rough!" burst out the squire, with a fine appearance of wrath. "He insulted my son on the bridge and knocked him down. And he insults every one he dares!"

"That is a gross untruth, Squire Paget!" burst out Ralph. "I insult n.o.body----"

"He's a very impulsive youth," put in Postmaster Hooker, thinking it time to bolster up the squire's remarks. "He is, I am afraid, too hot-headed to have on the bridge, not to say anything about this attempt to--ahem!--cast an unworthy reflection on the fair name of our squire's son."

And the postmaster looked as important as possible as he spoke.

Uriah d.i.c.ks caught the drift of the talk and looked perplexed, not knowing exactly upon which side to cast his opinion.

But he soon made up his mind. Ralph was a poor boy, with little or no influence, while the squire was rich and powerful.

"I don't know but what you are right, gentlemen," he said. "He certainly talked putty sharp-like about Percy last night."

"I shall make him suffer for that, never fear," said the squire, pointedly. "He shall not insult my son with impunity!"

Ralph was about to speak, but Horace Kelsey checked him.

"It will do you no good to talk," he said, in a low tone. "They are against you, and we can prove nothing. Better drop the matter, at least until something more in your favor turns up."

"But I am certain the bill is mine----"

"So am I, but it is one thing to know it and quite another to prove it."

"Hadn't you ought to be on the bridge now?" asked Uriah, sourly.

"Bob Sanderson is tending for me."

"Who give him that right?" asked Squire Paget.

"Certainly not the town committee."

"Mr. Foley said I might have him help me during slack hours," returned the young bridge tender, mentioning the name of another of the committeemen.

"He ain't got no power," put in Uriah. "It wasn't never put to a vote."

"I must have some help."

"A young man that was really willing to work wouldn't need no help,"

grumbled the miserly storekeeper. "It is only on account of laziness you need help."

"That's so," added the postmaster, willing to "pile it on" when there was such a good chance. "Better get back to work at once!"

"I will," replied Ralph, and, not wishing to lose his job on the spot, he left the store, followed by Horace Kelsey.

"It's a shame the way they treat you!" burst out the young man, as the two walked toward the bridge. "I don't really see how they can do it."

"I suppose they will discharge me now," returned Ralph, bitterly. "And all because I claim a bill that I am positive is my own!"

"If they discharge you, I would make that Percy Paget prove where he got the bill. If he cannot prove it, that will be one point in your favor."