REUBEN STONE’S DISCOVERY. CHAPTER I. THE YOUNG MILLER. “It ain’t no use to talk, Rube, that bill has got to be paid.” Mr. James Jackson brought his fist down on the little desk in one corner of the mill with such force that everything jumped. “I’ve waited for it till I’m all out of patience, and now I want my money.” “I’m sorry, Mr. Jackson,” I replied, “very sorry indeed to keep you waiting; but it cannot be helped. Business has been backward this summer, as you know, and money is tight.” “It never was tight when your father was here,” growled the principal storekeeper of Torrent Bend, as he strode up and down the whitened floor. “Every bill was paid on the spot.” “That is true, sir; but father knew the business was getting poorer every day, and that is the reason he left to see if he couldn’t locate in some place in the West.” “Might better have stayed here and tended to this place, and not let his son run it into the ground.” “I am not running the business into the ground,” I cried, with some show of spirit, because I thought the assertion an unfair one. “I do all the grinding that comes in, and even go over to Bayport and down to Sander’s Point in the boat to get it.” “Pooh! don’t tell me! Young men around here don’t amount to much! But that ain’t here or there. I came for that money.” “I will see if I can pay it to-day. I have a load of middlings to take over to Mr. Carnet this morning, and if he pays me I will come right down to the Bend and settle up.” “And if he don’t pay?” “I trust he does.” “Well, pay or not, I’ve got to have my money, and that’s all there is to it. You can’t have any more goods till you square accounts.” And having thus delivered himself, Mr. Jackson stamped out of the mill, jumped into his buckboard, and drove off for the village. He did not leave me in a very happy state of mind. I was in sole charge of the mill, and I was finding it hard work to make everything run smoothly. Two months before, my father had departed for the West, with a view to locating a new mill in any spot that might promise well. Affairs in Torrent Bend were nearly at a standstill, with no prospect of improving. I was but sixteen years old, but I had been born and raised in the mill, and I understood the business fully as well as the average miller. I ground out all the wheat, corn, rye, and buckwheat that came to hand, took my portion of the same and disposed of it to the best advantage. In addition to this I used up all my spare time in drumming up trade; and what more could any one do? With the exception of my father, and an uncle whom I had never seen, I was alone in the world. My mother had died four years before, while I was still attending the district school, and two years later my twin sisters had followed her.