“True as gospel, Mr. Walton. I heard a lot about it on all sides, but I saw enough with my own eyes to convince me that there was no mistake. I went out to where the Whipples live one dark, cloudy night, and walked clean round the house. I could see into the sitting-room, for it was lighted up bright. Whipple was there, and a gray-haired, kind-looking old lady that was his wife, I reckon, and Fred. They were all sitting round a green lamp on a table. From where I stood, of course, I couldn't hear a word that was said, but it seemed like Fred was telling some funny yarn or other, like he used to do here at home, you know, and both the old folks were laughing. I don't know when anything ever has affected me as much as that sight did. I reckon I was homesick myself, away out there playing the sneak, like I was, and it made me awful blue. You know, sir, I always _did_ like Fred, and I don't believe many folks ever knew how much he missed his mother. And somehow, when I saw him in an entirely new home like that, away off from old ties, why--well--it sort o' got the best of me. Maybe, as I say, it was because I was homesick, but I never wanted to speak to anybody in all my life as much as I did to him at that minute.” The head of the banker went down, his chin rested on his breast, and he was silent for a few minutes. Then he looked up, threw a cautious, half-fearful glance back into the house, and rose to his feet. “Let's walk down to the gate,” he said, in a low, unsteady voice. “I want to talk, Toby, and yet I don't hardly know what a body could say. I have faced lots of criticism and slurs in my day and time, and never cared much what was said; but, between me and you, this thing strikes me down deep. You see, it is pretty tough the way it turned out--this having other folks give a body's son a home, and all that, and I hate to think that folks here in Stafford will get onto it and chatter. I understand 'em well enough to know, in advance, what they will say. I don't care what they think about me losing money, and the like, for that's just business. But the other thing cuts--it cuts deep. I reckon the boy didn't get any too much attention at home after I married the last time, and I reckon, if the truth was known, I was influenced against him some by his stepmother's constant nagging about his ways. I say I _reckon_ I was influenced, for I hardly think I'd have been quite as tight on the boy if there had been just me and him left at home after his mother died. My first wife was a good woman, Toby. I never knew how good and loving she was till she was put away forever. But the town will talk now good fashion. They will say Fred served me' right to go off and get appreciated and loved by folks that was no blood kin, but who simply took him on merits I was too mean to see. They will have the laugh on me. They will call me an old hog, and I reckon I deserve it. You know, yourself, that I come within an inch of clapping handcuffs on him. I'd