"Ha! Is that a threat?"
"Oh, no. It is only a word of advice. Please to remember that we know all about you, and we won't stand any nonsense from you. If my brother really hurt you, he'll be willing to do the fair thing; but if you think you can gouge him in any way, you've got another guess coming."
"Looky!" came in a shrill voice from old Henry Grisley. "I thought we come here fer my money on that er mortgage," and from under a pair of heavy gray eyebrows he looked searchingly into the faces of Mr. Sanderson and the lawyer.
"Yes, Mr. Grisley, that's what we came for," returned Belright Fogg, "and the sooner we come to business perhaps the better."
"As I've told you before, the money is gone—stolen," said Mr. Sanderson. "I can't pay—at least not now, and I'd like an extension of time."
"Mr. Grisley isn't inclined to grant any extension," said Belright Fogg, somewhat pompously. "The mortgage is too big for this place anyway, and he feels that he ought to have his money."
"And if Mr. Sanderson can't pay, what then?" questioned Tom, before the farmer could speak.
"Why, we'll have to foreclose and sell the place," answered the lawyer, quickly.
"That's it! That's it!" came shrilly from old Henry Grisley. "I want my money—every cent of it. If I don't git it, I'm goin' to take the farm," he added in tones which were almost triumphant.
"But see here——" began Mr. Sanderson.