"I think it works both ways, and the poor man is the slave either way, whether he buys or sells," said the boy, half defiantly, half timidly. "I guess you're about right," said the Squire, looking at him curiously. "Ever hear your uncle Ozias Lamb say anything like that?" "No, sir." "Thought it yourself, eh?" "Yes, sir." "Well, let's get to business now," said the Squire. "What you want is this, if I understand it. You want Doctor Prescott to buy that wood-lot of your father's for three hundred dollars, or whatever over that sum he will agree to, and you don't want him to pay you money down, but give you his note for it, with interest at six per cent., for as long a term as he will. You did not say give you a note, because you did not know about it, but that is what you want." Jerome nodded soberly. "I know father paid interest at six per cent., and it was sixty dollars a year, and I know it would be eighteen dollars if it was three hundred dollars instead of a thousand. I figured it out on my slate," he said. "You are right," said the Squire, gravely. "Now you think that will bring your interest down to forty-two dollars a year, and maybe you can manage that; and if you cannot, you think that Doctor Prescott will pay you cash down for the wood-lot?" The boy seemed to be engaged in an arithmetical calculation. He bent his brows, and his lips moved. "That would be over seven years' interest money, at forty-two dollars a year, anyway," he said at length, looking at the Squire with shrewdly innocent eyes. Suddenly Eben Merritt burst into a great roar of laughter, and struck the boy a kindly slap upon his small back. "By the Lord Harry!" cried he, "you've struck a scheme worthy of the Jews. But you need good Christians to deal with!" Jerome started and stared at him, half anxiously, half resentfully. "Ain't it right, sir?" he stammered. "Oh, your scheme is right enough; no trouble about that. The question is whether Doctor Prescott is right." Eben Merritt burst into another roar of laughter as he arose and set the boy on his feet. "I am not laughing at you, my boy," he said, though Jerome's wondering, indignant eyes upon his face were, to his thinking, past humorous. Then he laid a hand upon each of the boy's little homespun shoulders. "Go and see Doctor Prescott, and tell him your plan, and--if he does not approve of it, come here and let me know," he said, and seriously enough to suit even Jerome's jealous self-respect. "Yes, sir," said Jerome. "And," added the Squire, "you had better go a little after noon--you will be more likely to find him at home." "Yes, sir." "Are you afraid to go out alone after dark?" asked the Squire. "No, sir," replied Jerome, proudly. "Well, then," said the Squire, "come and see me this evening, and tell me what Doctor Prescott says."