“And I am just as sure that I did not,” returned Jenkins, still perfectly undisturbed, while Gooding, as might be supposed, felt his indignation just ready to boil over. But the latter controlled himself as best he could; and as soon as he could get away from the store of Jenkins, without doing so in a manner that would tend to close all intercourse between them, he left and returned to his own place of business, chagrined and angry. On the same evening, as Gooding was riding home, he saw Jenkins ahead of him on the road. He soon overtook him. Jenkins turned his usual smiling face upon his old creditor, and said “Good evening,” in his usual friendly way. The invitation to get up and ride, that always was given on like occasions, was extended again, and in a few moments the two men were riding along side by side, as friendly, to all appearance, as if nothing had happened. “Jenkins, how could you serve me such a scaly trick as you did?” Gooding said, soon after his neighbor had taken a seat by his side. “You know very well that you promised to pay my claim; and also promised to give me fifty dollars of it to-day, if possible.” “I know I did. But it was out of my power to let you have any thing to-day,” replied Jenkins. “But what was the use of your denying it, and making me out a liar or a fool in the presence of your clerk?” “I had a very good reason for doing so. My clerk would have been a witness to my acknowledgment of your whole claim against me, and thus make me liable before I was ready to pay it. As my head is fairly clear of the halter, you cannot blame me for wishing to keep it so. A burnt child, you know, dreads the fire.” “But you know me well enough to know that I never would have pressed the claim against you.” “Friend Gooding, I have seen enough of the world to satisfy me that we don’t know any one. I am very ready to say to you, that your claim shall be satisfied to the full extent, whenever it is in my power to do so; but a _legal_ acknowledgment of the claim I am not willing to make. You mustn’t think hard of me for what I did to-day. I could not, in justice to myself, have done any thing else.” Gooding professed to be fully satisfied with this explanation, although he was not. He was very well assured that Jenkins was perfectly able to pay him the three hundred dollars if he chose to do so, and that his refusal to let him have the fifty dollars, conditionally promised, was a dishonest act. More than a year passed, during which time Gooding made many fruitless attempts to get something out of Jenkins, who was always on the best terms with him, but put him off with fair promises, that were never kept. These promises were never made in the presence of a third person, and might, therefore, have just as well been made to the wind, so far as their binding force was concerned. Things grew worse and worse with Gooding, and he became poorer every day, while the condition of Jenkins as steadily improved.