“I’m afraid it isn’t what your father would have liked.”
“Father lived when things were different. Everything has changed. I’m changed.”
By mid-afternoon Morey and the agent were in Major Carey’s office. The news of Morey’s return had spread quickly. The dignified planter-banker was not at his ease. He began the interview by mildly censuring the boy for his sudden leave-taking. Then he seemed to desire to mend matters a little by explaining how he had adjusted the trouble with Judge Lomax. Morey heard him impatiently and then came to the point.
“I suppose you remember what I said to you the last time I saw you?” began Morey.
“You were not wholly in command of yourself,” replied Major Carey, condescendingly.
“I told you when I entered your office again that I’d be here to settle with you. I’m ready.”
“To settle with me?”
“With you, Captain Barber, Mr. Bradner, the bank, or any one else that has a claim against my mother.”
“Morey, what does this mean?”
“It means that you folks think you own this town and all the people in it. You do, too, pretty much—except us. Produce your statement of every cent we owe you. I want the notes and have the money to square up.”