“Nothing but that he was my mother’s brother.”
“He seems to be mighty anxious about his money,” went on the mill-hand, who was always outspoken in his opinions.
“Well, I suppose he is entitled to what is due him.”
“He might have waited till he got here. Wonder when he will arrive?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
I was utterly cast down, and could not do a stroke of work. I took a walk up the river, and sat down on a rock to think the whole matter over.
It was two hours later before I rose to go back. The time had been a bitter one; but now I felt better, and was ready to face whatever was to come.
When I arrived at the mill I found Ford hard at work. Tom Darrow had just tied up at the pier, and my helper had told him the sad news.
“It’s hard, Rube, dreadful hard, and no mistake,” he said.