"when my poor husband left your office this receipt was in his possession," answered mrs. burton.

"i deny it," exclaimed aaron wolverton, in a tone of excitement.

"where else should it be?" inquired the widow, eying him fixedly.

"i don't know. how should i?"

"so you deny that the signature is yours, mr. wolverton?"

"let me see it."

"i would rather not," said bob, drawing back the receipt from wolverton's extended hand.

"that's enough!" said wolverton quickly. "you are afraid to show it. i denounce it as a base forgery."

"that will do no good," said the boy, [pg 112]un-terrified. "i have shown the receipt to mr. dornton, and he pronounces the signature genuine."

"what made you show it to him?" asked wolverton, discomfited.though the receipt was lost, wolverton could not give up his plan of extorting the interest from mrs. burton a second time. it might have been supposed that he would have some qualms of conscience about robbing the widow and the fatherless, but mr. wolverton's conscience, if he had any, gave him very little trouble. he would have thought himself a fool to give up one hundred and fifty dollars if there was the slightest chance of securing them.

towards evening of the day on which bob had interfered with him, he took his hat and cane, and set out for burton's ranch.

it so happened that bob answered the bell. he had been sitting with his mother, chatting about their future plans.

"good-evening, mr. wolverton," said bob,[pg 105] who felt it incumbent upon him to be polite to a guest, even though he disliked him.

"evening," returned wolverton, curtly. "is your mother at home?"

"yes, sir. will you come in?"

wolverton had not the good manners to acknowledge the invitation with thanks, but strode into the sitting-room, following bob.

the widow anticipated his visit, having been informed by bob that he had announced his intention of coming.

"good-evening, mr. wolverton. take a seat," she said, pointing to a chair a few feet from her own. "robert, take mr. wolverton's hat."

wolverton looked at the widow with a hungry gaze, for she was the only woman, he had ever loved.

"if she would only marry me, all her troubles would be over," he said to himself. "she's a fool to refuse."

we, who have some idea of mr. wolverton's character and disposition, are more likely to conclude that marriage with such a man would be only the beginning of trouble.[pg 106]

"i've come on business, mrs. burton," said the visitor, in an aggressive tone.

"state it, if you please, mr. wolverton," the widow answered, calmly.

"hadn't you better send your son out of the room? we'd better discuss this matter alone."

"i have no secrets from robert," said the widow.

"oh, well, just as you please; i don't care to have him interfere in what doesn't concern him."

"any business with my mother does concern me," said bob; "but i will try not to give you any trouble."

"the business is about that interest," wolverton began, abruptly.

"what interest?"

"you must know what i mean—the interest on the mortgage."

"my husband paid it on the day of his death."

"it's easy enough to say that," sneered wolverton, "but saying it isn't proving it, as you must have the good sense to know."[pg 107]

"when my husband left me on that fatal morning, he told me that he was going to your office to pay the interest. i know he had the money and with him, for he had laid down the wallet, and i saw the roll of bills."

"why didn't he pay it, then? that's what i'd like to know."

"didn't he pay it to you, mr. wolverton?" asked mrs. burton, with a searching glance. "carry back your memory to that day, and answer me that question."

mr. wolverton showed himself a little restive under this interrogatory, but he assumed an air of indignation.

"what do you mean, widder?" he demanded, bringing down his cane with emphasis upon the floor. "do you doubt my word?"

"i think you may be mistaken, mr. wolverton," said mrs. burton, composedly.

"who has been putting this into your head, widder? is it that boy of yours?"

bob answered for himself:

"i don't mind saying that i did tell mother that i thought the money had been paid."[pg 108]

"humph! you think yourself mighty smart, bob burton," snarled wolverton. "nat'rally you'd like to get rid of paying the interest, if you could; but you've got a business man to deal with, not a fool."

"you are no fool where money is concerned, there's no doubt about that. but i want to ask you one thing, if my father didn't pay you the money which mother can testify to his carrying with him on the morning of his death, what became of it?"

"how should i know? did you search his wallet when he was brought home?"

"yes."

"and you didn't find the money?"

"no."

"so you conclude that he paid it to me. let me tell you, young man, that doesn't follow. he may have been robbed when he was lying on the ground insensible."

"i think very likely he was," returned bob, quietly.

"what do you mean by that?" demanded wolverton, uneasily. "who could have robbed him?"[pg 109]

"possibly some one that we wouldn't be likely to suspect."

"what does he mean? can he possibly suspect me?" thought wolverton, fixing his eyes on bob's face. "but no! i certainly didn't take any money from him."

"you may be right," he said aloud; "but that hasn't anything to do with my claim for interest. whether your father was robbed of the money, or spent it, is all one to me. it wasn't paid to me, i can certify."

"would you be willing to swear that the money was not paid to you that day, mr. wolverton?"

"do you mean to insult me? haven't i told you it was not paid?"

"do you expect me to pay it to you, then?" asked mrs. burton.

"widder, i am surprised you should ask such a foolish question. it lies in a nutshell. i'm entitled to interest on the money i let your husband have on mortgage. you admit that?"

"yes."

"i'm glad you admit that. as your husband[pg 110] didn't pay, i look to you for it. i can say no more."

mrs. burton took a pocket-book from a pocket in her dress, and handed it to robert. bob opened it, and drew therefrom a folded paper.

"mr. wolverton," he said, quietly, "i hold in my hand a receipt signed by yourself for the interest—one hundred and fifty dollars—dated the very day that my poor father died. what have you to say to it?"

mr. wolverton sprang to his feet, pale and panic-stricken.

"where did you get that paper?" he stammered, hoarsely.

"because i thought it likely, after your demanding the interest the second time, that you would deny it."

"probably i know my own signature better than mr. dornton can."

"i have no doubt you will recognize it," and bob, unfolding the paper, held it in such a manner that wolverton could read it.

"it may be my signature; it looks like it," said wolverton, quickly deciding upon a new evasion, "but it was never delivered to your father."

"how then do you account for its being written?" asked mrs. burton, in natural surprise.

"i made it out on the day your husband died," wolverton answered glibly, "anticipating that he would pay the money. he did not do it, and so the receipt remained in my desk."[pg 113]

bob and his mother regarded each other in surprise. they were not prepared for such a barefaced falsehood.

"perhaps you will account for its not being in your desk now," said bob.

"i can do so, readily," returned wolverton, maliciously. "somebody must have stolen it from my desk."

"i think you will find it hard to prove this, mr. wolverton."

"it is true, and i don't propose to lose my money on account of a stolen receipt. you will find that you can't so easily circumvent aaron wolverton."

"you are quite welcome to adopt this line of defense, mr. wolverton, if you think best. you ought to know whether the public will believe such an improbable tale."

"if you had the receipt why didn't you show it to me before?" wolverton asked in a triumphant tone. "i came here soon after your father's death, and asked for my interest. your mother admitted, then, that she had no receipt."

"we had not found it then."[pg 114]

"where, and when, did you find it?"

"i do not propose to tell."

wolverton shook his head, satirically.

"and a very good reason you have, i make no doubt."

"suppose i tell you my theory, mr. wolverton."

"i wish you would," and wolverton leaned back in his chair and gazed defiantly at the boy he so much hated.

"my father paid you the interest, and took a receipt. he had it on his person when he met with his death. when he was lying outstretched in death"—here bob's eyes moistened—"some one came up, and, bending over him, took the receipt from his pocket."

mr. wolverton's face grew pale as bob proceeded.

"a very pretty romance!" he sneered, recovering himself after an instant.

"it is something more than romance," bob proceeded slowly and gravely. "it is true; the man who was guilty of this mean theft from a man made helpless by death is known. he was seen at this contemptible work."[pg 115]

"it is a lie," cried wolverton, hoarsely, his face the color of chalk.

"it is a solemn truth."

"who saw him?"

"i don't propose to tell—yet, if necessary, it will be told in a court of justice."

wolverton saw that he was found out, but he could not afford to acknowledge. his best way of getting off was to fly into a rage, and this was easy for him.

"i denounce this as a base conspiracy," he said, rising as he spoke. "that receipt was stolen from my desk."

"then we do not need to inquire who took it from the vest-pocket of my poor father."

"robert barton, i will get even with you for this insult," said wolverton, shaking his fist at the manly boy. "you and your mother."

"leave out my mother's name," said bob, sternly.

"i will; i don't think she would be capable of such meanness. you, then, are engaged in a plot to rob me of a hundred and fifty dollars. to further this wicked scheme, you or[pg 116] your agent have stolen this receipt from my desk. i can have you arrested for burglary. it is no more nor less than that."

"you can do so if you like, mr. wolverton. in that case the public shall know that you stole the receipt from my poor father after his death. i can produce an eye-witness."

wolverton saw that he was in a trap. such a disclosure would injure him infinitely in the opinion of his neighbors, for it would be believed. there was no help for it. he must lose the hundred and fifty dollars upon which, though he had no claim to it, he had so confidently reckoned.

"you will hear from me!" he said, savagely, as he jammed his hat down upon his head, and hastily left the apartment. "aaron wolverton is not the man to give in to fraud."

neither bob nor his mother answered him, but mrs. burton asked anxiously, after his departure:

"do you think he will do anything, bob?"

"no, mother; he sees that he is in a trap, and will think it wisest to let the matter drop."[pg 117]

this, in fact, turned out to be the case. mortifying as it was to give in, wolverton did not dare to act otherwise. he would have given something handsome, mean though he was, if he could have found out, first, who saw him rob the dead man, and next, who extracted the stolen receipt from his desk. he was inclined to guess that it was bob in both cases. it never occurred to him that clip was the eye-witness whose testimony could brand him with this contemptible crime. nor did he think of sam in connection with his own loss of the receipt. he knew sam's timidity, and did not believe the boy would have dared to do such a thing.

all the next day, in consequence of his disappointment, mr. wolverton was unusually cross and irritable. he even snapped at his sister, who replied, with spirit:

"look here, aaron, you needn't snap at me, for i won't stand it."

"how will you help it?" he sneered.

"by leaving your house, and letting you get another housekeeper. i can earn my own living, without working any harder than i do[pg 118] here, and a better living, too. while i stay here, you've got to treat me decently."

wolverton began to see that he had made a mistake. any other housekeeper would cost him more, and he could find none that would be so economical.

"i don't mean anything, sally," he said; "but i'm worried."

"what worries you?"

"a heavy loss."

"how much?"

"a hundred and fifty dollars."

"how is that?"

"i have lost a receipt, but i can't explain how. a hundred and fifty dollars is a great deal of money, sally."

"i should say it was. why can't you tell me about it?"

"perhaps i will some time."

about two months later, while bob was superintending the harvesting of the wheat—the staple crop of the burton ranch—clip came running up to him in visible excitement.

"oh, massa bob," he exclaimed, "there is[pg 119] a ferry-boat coming down the creek with nobody on it, and it's done got stuck ag'inst a snag. come quick, and we can take it for our own. findings is keepings."

bob lost no time in following clip's suggestion. he hurried to the creek, and there, a few rods from shore, he discovered the boat stranded in the mud, for it was low tide.