Ruth surveyed the tempting supper prepared for her: cream toast, broiled chicken, a small pot of cocoa, a fresh sponge cake scalloped and with a hole in the middle into which hole Martin had stuck a bunch of violets. Amber jelly and some fruit completed the bill of fare. Wouldn't Billy's eyes open if he could see all this served on beautiful cut glass and china? The thought of Billy reminded Ruth of the paper she had found in the pocket.
"There is only one thing I want, Martin," she said. "I wish you would read something for me."
She brought out the piece of paper and unfolded it before Martin. He screwed up his eyes, put his head to one side and scrutinized the paper carefully, turning it over to look at the reverse side.
"I can make out the Simon Petty," said Ruth by way of encouragement.
Martin nodded. "Yes, miss, that's plain enough. 'Tain't a very good plain fist, the rest of it, but as I make out, it's a receipt signed 'Simon Petty.'"
"What's a receipt?" asked Ruth quickly.
"It's to tell that some money has been paid. This here," he pointed to the paper, "seems to say that Francis Blackberry, or some such name, has paid Petty five thousand dollars—payment in full of money advanced. It reads like that."
"Couldn't it be Francis Brackenbury? Are you sure it's Blackberry?" said Ruth eagerly.
"Come to look at it I guess it might be Brackenbury, but it's such twistified sort of writing it's hard to tell, but I guess you are right and it's Brackenbury."
"He did pay it, he did," said Ruth excitedly. "Aunt Hester said so."