“That, of course, we could show the receipt.”
“It was a cunningly laid plot,” said Mrs. Gordon, indignantly. “He kept back the note, in the hope that your father would mislay the receipt. Perhaps he was even wicked enough to hope that he would be killed, and so clear the way for carrying out his fraudulent scheme.”
“I shouldn’t wonder if it were so, mother. I believe the old man would sell himself for money.”
Then, chancing to think of Mr. Starr’s involuntary ride on one of his own cows, Andy began to laugh heartily, considerably to the surprise of his mother.
“I can’t see anything to laugh at, Andy,” she said, wonderingly.
“You would have laughed if you had seen what happened while I was talking to Mr. Starr.”
And Andy proceeded to give an account of the scene.
Mrs. Gordon smiled, but she was too much impressed by the serious position in which they were placed to feel as much amusement as Andy.
“I am afraid, Andy,” she said, “that Mr. Starr will deprive us of our furniture, unless something unexpected turns up in our favor.”
This recalled to Andy’s mind the packet which he had just brought from the post office.