Part 17 (1/2)
”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.