Sunday you appeared at church, Squire Haynes stopped me to inquire
who you were."

"I am thought to look much as my father did. He undoubtedly saw the
resemblance. I have often caught his eyes fixed upon me in perplexity
when he did not know that I noticed him. It is fourteen years since my
father died. Retribution has been slow, but it has come at last."

"When do you go on to New York?" asked Frank, recalling the agent's
request.

"I shall start to-morrow morning. For the present I will ask you to keep
what I have said a secret even from your good mother. It is as well not
to disturb Squire Haynes in his fancied security until we are ready to
overwhelm him with our evidence."

"How long shall you be absent, Mr. Morton?"

"Probably less than a week. I shall merely say that I have gone on
business. I trust to your discretion to say nothing more."

"I certainly will not," said Frank. "I am very much obliged to you for
having told me first."

The two rose from their grassy seats, and walked slowly back to the
farmhouse.

CHAPTER XXX. FRANK CALLS ON SQUIRE HAYNES

The next morning Mr. Morton was a passenger by the early stage for
Webbington, where he took the train for Boston. Thence he was to proceed
to New York by the steamboat train.

"Good-by, Mr. Morton," said Frank, waving his cap as the stage started.
"I hope you'll soon be back."

"I hope so, too; good-by."

Crack went the whip, round went the wheels. The horses started, and the
stage rumbled off, swaying this way and that, as if top-heavy.

Frank went slowly back to the house, feeling quite lonely. He had become
so accustomed to Mr. Morton's companionship that his departure left a
void which he hardly knew how to fill.

As he reflected upon Mr. Morton's story he began to feel an increased
uneasiness at the mortgage held by Squire Haynes upon his father's farm.
The time was very near at hand--only ten days off--when the mortgage
might be foreclosed, and but half the money was in readiness.

Perhaps, however, Squire Haynes had no intention of foreclosing. If so,
there was no occasion for apprehension. But about this he felt by no
means certain.

He finally determined, without consulting his mother, to make the squire
a visit and inquire frankly what he intended to do. The squire's answer
would regulate his future proceedings.

It was Frank's rule--and a very good one, too--to do at once whatever
needed to be done. He resolved to lose no ti