The man was proud of his length of service. It showed in his tone. Twenty-seven years. Rod looked at him. He had been an infant in arms when this man entered his father's service. For twenty-seven years Stagg had waited on them and theirs, arranging their tables, polishing their silver, serving their food, ministering deftly to their every want, expressed or implied. "Have you saved any money?" Rod pursued. He had no false delicacy about asking such a question. He had to know whether he was about to chuck a penniless man out into a world that would be far harsher to William Stagg than Hawk's Nest had ever been, even in its most exacting moments. Rod had been taught, not as a lesson but as a principle of living, that faithful service begets an obligation. It seemed to him a natural corollary. His instincts inherited, acquired, however he came by them were more or less patriarchal. "We've saved a good bit, sir." "That's fortunate," Rod continued. "Because I shall have to close this house. I shall have to let everybody go." "Yes, sir," Stagg murmured. He clasped his fingers across his knees and stared at the rug. "I hate to do it," Rod went on. "But the way things stand, keeping up this place is more of a drain than I can afford. For a time I'm only a--a sort of steward of the Norquay estate. If I get out of the hole with anything left, you shall certainly have the pension to which you are entitled, Stagg. I'm acting under a very disagreeable necessity." "Yes, sir," the man nodded. "I've been hoping it wouldn't be necessary, sir. Still, I've expected it." "Oh, you have? How's that?" "There's been talk, sir. It gets up here, sir, from town." "Servants' talk?" Rod inquired. "The kind of talk servants hears, sir," Stagg replied. "People are saying that you are a fool to ruin yourself over the Norquay Trust Company." "I don't agree with them," Rod said impassively. "But they may be right. What do you think about it yourself, Stagg?" "I had eleven thousand dollars on deposit in the Norquay Trust, sir," Stagg returned calmly. "About all we've saved in a lifetime of work, the missus and me. You can fancy what _I_ think, Mr. Rod." "Eh? Well, I hope you got it out while the getting was good; although it's reasonably safe if you didn't," Rod smiled. "Unless the heavens fall or some such catastrophe occurs, the Norquay Trust will pay interest and principal in full on every account before I close its doors--which I intend to do as soon as I can turn our timber into cash."