“I presume you don't recognize me, sir,” said Paul.
“Did I ever see you before?”
“Yes, sir; my name is Paul Prescott.”
“Not the son of John Prescott?”
“The same, sir. I believe my father died in your debt.”
“Yes. I lent him five hundred dollars, which he never repaid.”
“He tried to do so, sir. He had saved up a hundred and fifty dollars towards it, but sickness came upon him, and he was obliged to use it.”
'Squire Conant's temper had been subdued by the long and dangerous illness through which he had passed. It had made him set a smaller value on his earthly possessions, from which he might be separated at any moment. When he answered Paul, it was in a manner which our hero did not expect.
“Never mind. I can afford to lose it. I have no doubt he did what he could.”
“But I have come to pay it, sir,” said Paul.