AWYER RIPLEY was one of the important men of the little city of Gridley. His law practice, which he did not now follow on account of the need of an income, put him in touch with all the wealthier people of the place.
In manner the lawyer was rather severe and austere. He was a good deal of an aristocrat. While he did not seek to repel people, he had little of the knack of drawing people to him in democratic fashion.
"Come in!" he called, in answer to the knock that Dick gave on the door.
As the boys entered they saw the lawyer pausing beside his coat rack.
"I am afraid we have gotten along a little too late, sir," apologized Dick Prescott.
"I can spare you two or three minutes," said the lawyer, turning and going back to his desk.
"Your son said you wished to see us," Prescott continued.
"Yes," said the lawyer, pulling a drawer in his desk open and glancing inside. "Late yesterday afternoon I received a letter from my client, Mrs. Dexter, who directed me to hand you each a new ten-dollar bill, with her best wishes for a Merry Christmas added."
"I am afraid that Mrs. Dexter intends that as a reward for what we were able to do for her last fall," cried Dick, flushing. "We tried to tell her, at the time, that we didn't want any reward and that we wouldn't feel comfortable in taking one."