So a festal array there was on the supper table that night, and Ruth enjoyed her meal more than any she had consumed in the house of her uncle.
The dishes were scarcely cleared away before Dr. Peaslee returned, bringing Squire Field with him. The squire drew Ruth to his knee.
"Little Ruth Brackenbury, tell us about this," he said, laying the receipt on the table.
And Ruth told him her story.
The squire turned to Miss Hester. "So, Hester," he said, "your father did pay off his debt to Simon Petty, fifteen thousand dollars in all. Tom Peaslee couldn't let me rest, but routed me from my supper table and said Simon might die before he acknowledged this, so he dragged me up there where we set matters right in a jiffy and this is yours. The old house goes back into your hands and we may thank this little lady for her sense in keeping that paper."
"But I was going to throw it away," declared Ruth in all honesty. "If I hadn't put it in the old pocket, it would be gone."
"Ah, yes, but you didn't throw it away; that's just the point," said the squire smiling.
He handed the paper to Miss Hester with others bearing the signature of Simon Petty.
Miss Hester took them with trembling hands. It seemed too good to be true. "Now," she said, "I can press the government claim. It only needed a little money to do that. Will you undertake it, squire?"
"Why didn't you say before this that you did not press it because you had no lawyer's fee?" asked the Squire sharply. "Didn't you know I would have taken the case on the chance of its coming out all right?"