"I believe my son speaks the truth," added Squire Paget. "You had better be going and hunt for your money elsewhere."
"I don't believe he ever had twenty dollars, excepting he saved it out of the toll money," sneered Percy, and he walked from the room.
Burning with indignation, but unable to help himself toward obtaining his rights, Ralph arose and without another word left the squire's mansion. It was too late to attempt to do more that night, and after some hesitation he went home.
Squire Paget watched him leave the garden, and then locked the front door and went back to the library.
"Ralph Nelson is getting too important, in his own estimation," he mused. "I thought he was a mere youngster who could be twisted around one's finger, but I was mistaken. I must get him out of his situation and compel him to leave Westville, if possible. I can't do much while he is around here."
Squire Paget sat for half an hour in his easy chair thinking over his plans. Then he went to bed.
After breakfast he started out to pay a visit to Benjamin Hooker, the village postmaster. Hooker, Dicks and the squire were close friends, and they constituted a majority of the village board, which controlled the bridge and other local matters.
"Well, squire, what brings you around this morning so early?" questioned the postmaster, for it was an hour before regular mail time.
"I come to see you about committee matters," returned Squire Paget. "I have got to report against Ralph Nelson, our bridge tender."
"What's he been a-doing, squire?"