“Halloo, there!” shouted a voice.
David looked up and saw another horseman standing beside the fence—Silas Jones, who kept the store at the landing, and the very man of whom he had been thinking but a moment before.
“Come here, David,” continued Silas. “I am out collecting bills, and I thought I would ride around and see if you have heard anything of that respected father of yours during the last few days.”
“No, sir; we haven't,” answered David, hanging his head.
“Well, I suppose you know that he owes me eight dollars, don't you?” said Silas.
“I knew he owed you something, but I didn't think it was as much as that,” replied David, opening his eyes. In his estimation, eight dollars was a debt of some magnitude.
“That's the amount, as sure as you live, and if I had charged him as much as I charge others, it would have been more. I made a little reduction to him, because I knew that he didn't own more of this world's goods than the law allows. What is to be done about it? Am I to lose my money because he has run away?”
“O, no,” said David, quickly. “I'll pay it, and be glad to do so. We may want groceries some time, you know, when we have no money to pay for them.”
“That's the way to talk. Pay up promptly and your credit will always be good.”
“All I ask of you,” continued David, “is that you will wait about a month longer, until——”