Part 17 (2/2)
”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.”
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