Merton, hard as it was, felt that he must draw that money in; and who was to pay it? Why, there were no effects whatever. To pay the other debts would take all the money that could be got, and part of the stock must be sold even then. But this three thousand pounds. To make that good all the stock, the corn, the implements—everything would have to be sold; including Mrs Herring’s little estate, and the small sums that had been advanced to the two sons who lived on one farm must be withdrawn. It was complete ruin—ruin without reserve. They were literally stunned, and knew not which way to turn. They could not understand, neither could Merton, what had become of the three thousand pounds; there was not a scrap of paper to show. Joseph had never been a good accountant—few farmers are; but one would have thought that he would have preserved some record of such a sum. But no—not a scrap. Then, as said before, these children began to murmur, as well they might. Then they began to understand, or guess dimly at the extraordinary excitement of the dying man. It was this that weighed upon his mind, and caused him to continually call for his eldest son and for Merton, in order that he might make some provision. There grew up a certain feeling against Albert. Why had he not come at once—if he had done so, perhaps this might have been averted. A vague distrust and suspicion of him arose. It was intensified by the knowledge that he alone was safe. He had had a longer start and a better farm; he had the reputation of having even saved a little money. No injury could befall him. Yet they had not got the slightest evidence against him in any way; but a coolness—a decided coolness arose between the brothers and sisters, and Albert, which Albert, on his part, made no effort to remove. Ill-natured people said he was only too glad to quarrel with them, so as to have a pretext for refusing them assistance. It happened, however, that one day a strange gentleman called upon Robert and John, the two brothers, who worked one farm together. He was an agent of an agricultural implement manufactory in a distant county, and his object was to induce them to purchase implements of him—especially steam traction engines. The poor brothers smiled in a melancholy way at the very idea. They buy engines—they should soon scarcely be able to buy bread! The agent expressed his surprise. “But your brother seems a wealthy man,” he said. “He paid for his engines in cash.” “In cash!” they cried. “He told us that he paid one-fifth only, and the rest remained in bills.” The agent saw he had got on delicate ground; but they pressed him, and he could not very well escape. It then came out that Albert had paid sixteen hundred pounds in hard cash for the engines, by which, as the factory had been pressed for money, he got them at little more than two-thirds of the value, which was considered to be two thousand three hundred pounds.