Wolverton's call was made on time. He had some expectation that the rent would not be ready, for he knew Dan had been sick; but he was resolved to show him no consideration.
"His sickness is nothing to me," he reflected. "It would be a pretty state of affairs if landlords allowed themselves to be cheated out of their rent for such a cause."
Dan Woods was at work in the yard when Wolverton approached. He was splitting some wood for use in the kitchen stove. His heart sank within him when he saw the keen, sharp features of his landlord.
"Good morning, Dan," said Wolverton, with suavity. His expression was amiable, as it generally was when he was collecting money, but it suffered a remarkable change if the money was not forthcoming.
"Good-morning, sir," answered Woods, with a troubled look.
"You've got a nice, snug place here, Dan; it's a fine home for your family."
"I don't complain of it, sir. As I once owned it myself, probably I set more store by it than a stranger would."
"Just so, Dan. You get it at a very low rent, too. If it were any one but yourself I should really feel that I ought to raise the rent to twenty dollars."
"I hope you won't do that, sir," said Woods, in alarm. "It's all I can do to raise ten dollars a month, with all my other expenses."
"Oh, well, I'll let it remain at the present figure as long as you pay me promptly," emphasizing the last words. "Of course I have a right to expect that."