"That's true, Adin. He was always a thoughtful, considerate boy. The house seems lonesome without him." "So it does, Sarah. But if I only knew he was doin' well I wouldn't mind that. He may have got sick and----" "Don't say such things, father," said Mrs. Dunham in a tremulous voice. "I can't bear to think anything's happened to the boy." "But we must be prepared for the worst, if so be the worst has come." "I am sure he is alive and well," said Sarah Dunham, who was of a more hopeful temperament than her husband. "Then why don't he write?" "To be sure, Adin. That's something I can't explain. But Dean's healthy, and he's a good boy, who wouldn't be likely to get into mischief. Instead of being prepared for the worst, suppose we hope for the best." "Maybe you're right, Sarah. I try to be cheerful, but since I was robbed of that thousand dollars luck seems to have been against me. And the worst of it is Sarah, I'm not getting younger. I shall be sixty-five next month." "I'm not much behind you, Adin, as far as years go." "I did hope that Dean would be in a position to help me when I got along in years. I mistrust I made a mistake when I let him go out West. If he'd stayed here, he might have been a good deal of help to us both." "Still there didn't seem to be much of a prospect for the boy." "He could have managed the farm when he got a little older." "That is true, but it has never given you a living, Adin. You've had to depend upon your trade." "He could have learned the same trade. A trade's a good thing for a boy to have to fall back upon." "He may come back, and realize all your expectations, Adin. We mustn't despond till we have reason to." "There's another thing that's worryin' me, Sarah—it's the mortgage. Next week six months' interest falls due—twenty-four dollars—and I haven't the money to meet it." "Squire Bates won't push you, surely." "I don't know. Once or twice lately when I met the squire he dropped a hint that he was short of money. I didn't say much, but it struck me he had an object in sayin' what he did." "It's the first time you haven't been ready with the interest, isn't it, Adin?" "Yes, the very first time." "Then perhaps he will overlook it this time. You'd better manage to see him about it." "I'll do it the first time I see him." That time came sooner than either of them thought. Adin Dunham had scarcely completed his sentence when a knock was heard at the door (Adin had never so far fallen in with city customs as to introduce a door bell.) Mrs. Dunham rose and opened the door. "Good-evening, Mrs. Dunham," said the visitor, suavely. "Good-evening, Squire Bates," said Sarah in surprise. "Won't you walk in?" "Yes, thank you. Is your husband at home?" "Oh, yes, he never goes out in the evening. Adin," she said, preceding the visitor, "here is Squire Bates, who has called to see you." "I am glad to see you, squire," said the carpenter.