“Yes.”
“Mr. Fenwick,” said the deacon, severely, “I thought you’d be above takin’ from Guy his employer’s money.”
“I think, Deacon Crane, that you are guilty of great impertinence in hinting such a thing!”
“This to me?” ejaculated the deacon, wrathfully.
“Yes, sir. You are speaking in a way I shall not permit. We will, if you please, proceed at once to business.”
Mr. Fenwick displayed such unusual spirit that Deacon Crane was electrified.
“The minister’s gettin’ on his high horse,” he said to himself. “It’s a mystery to me where Guy got so much money. I won’t rest till I find out.”
The money was paid, and Mr. Fenwick breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that his little property was at last free from incumbrance.
Deacon Crane left the house in a state of bewilderment even exceeding his disappointment. How on earth Guy could have come to his father’s assistance he could not understand.
He determined to question the minister’s son at the first opportunity.