“I think we’ve had enough of your brand of politeness,” he said quickly. “You have given Mrs. McQuade until next Monday to pay you, and that settles your business in this house, Colonel Carson.”
“What’s that to you?” shouted the enraged autocrat. “You ain’t got any right here neither——”
“I think you had better go, Colonel Carson,” and Mrs. McQuade gestured toward the door, with quiet dignity. “I have no legal proof of the mortgage having been paid, although the fact is morally certain. If we are not able to pay you before Monday, we cannot resist eviction, of course.”
“Fine chance you have of raising two thousand dollars by then!” sneered Colonel Carson, grasping his hat. “I’ll be around at eight o’clock Monday morning, so you’d better be packed up.”
And with that he left, still muttering threats.
“I’m sorry about this, Mrs. McQuade,” said Merriwell. “But don’t give up hope yet. Billy told me about the matter after we met Colonel Carson this morning.”
“It’s hard to keep up heart,” and the good woman looked out the door, her face strained and hopeless. “You see, we are positive that Mr. McQuade paid off that loan long ago, but we have no proof that would stand in law. It seems hard that such a man as Colonel Carson should drive us out!”
“He’s not done it yet,” responded Chip cheerfully. “I never knew chicanery to get a man anything lasting, Mrs. McQuade. It may seem to win out, but there are other things more important than money, you know.”
“You’re a good comfort, Mr. Merriwell,” and she gave him a smile, as she dabbed at her eyes with her apron. “Well, I’ll have to see about those cookies——”
And she went to the kitchen, leaving Chip in a thoughtful mood. When Billy returned half an hour later, he was wrathful at hearing of the colonel’s ultimatum, but could see no hope ahead. During luncheon, however, Merry made a proposition.