"But how can it be?"
"Your father, at his death, held a note of Davenport's for a thousand dollars—money which he had placed in his hands—a note bearing siX — per cent. interest."
Ben was more and more surprised; at first he was elated, then depressed.
"It will do me no good," he said, "nothing was found at father's death, and the note is no doubt destroyed."
"So Squire Davenport thinks," said his companion quietly.
"But isn't it true?"
"No; that note not only is in existence, but I knew where to lay my hands on it."
"Then it will more than offset the mortgage?" said Ben joyfully.
"I should say. No interest has been paid on the note for more than five years. The amount due must be quite double the amount of the mortgage."
"How can I thank you for this information?" said Ben. "We shall not be forced to give up our little cottage, after all. But how could Squire Davenport so wickedly try to cheat us of our little property?"