o'clock the next morning Mr. Nahum Jones approached the
Trafton cottage.

Sitting on a bench outside was Robert Coverdale, whittling. He had put
on his old clothes, intending it to be for the last time. He wanted to
surprise Mr. Jones.

"There's Bob Coverdale," said Mr. Jones to himself. "He don't look much
as if he was able to pay the mortgage. I guess I've got the place fast
enough."

"Is your aunt at home, young man?" he asked pompously.

"Yes," answered Robert, continuing to whittle.

"You might say 'yes, sir.'"

"All right. I'll remember next time."

"You'd better. Tell your aunt I want to see her--on business,"
emphasizing the last two words.

"Come right in, sir."

Mr. Jones, with a patronizing air, entered the house of which he already
considered himself the proprietor.

Mrs. Trafton was engaged in making a pudding, for she had two boarders
now, Julian and his father, who were to take their meals in the
fisherman's cottage till they got ready to leave Cook's Harbor.

"Good mornin', ma'am," said Mr. Jones.

"Good morning. Will you take a seat?" she said quietly.

"I can't stay long, Mrs. Trafton. I called on a little matter of
business."

"Very well, sir."

"I suppose you understand what it is?"

"Perhaps I do, but you had better explain."

"I have made up my mind to foreclose the mortgage I hold on this place,
and I should like to have you move out within three days, as I am going
to let it."

"Indeed! To whom do you intend to let it?"

"To Frank Shelton. He's goin' to be married, and this house will suit
him."

"And what am I to do, Mr. Jones? You surely do not mean to deprive
Robert and me of our home?"

"It isn't yours any longer, or won't be. Of course, you can't expect to
stay here. I haven't forgotten how you talked to me when I was here
before nor how impudent your boy was."

"Meaning me?" asked Robert with a grave face.

"Of course I mean you!" said Mr. Jones sharply.

"I haven't said anything impudent to you to-day, have I?"

"No, but you'd ought to have thought of that before. It's too late
now!"

"You won't turn us out on the street, will you, Mr. Jones?"

"Haven't I given you three days to stay? If you want my advice, I should
say that you'd find a good, comfortable home in the poorhouse. Your boy
there might be bound out to a farmer."

"I don't know any farmer that wants a boy," said Robert meekly.

"I'd take you myself," said Nahum Jones, "if you wasn't so im