“I have been looking over the accounts with my son, Frank, who has been running the store lately, and we figure the stock at eighteen hundred and forty dollars, and the fixtures at the figure in the papers.”
“Then you claim two thousand and forty dollars?”
“Isn’t that fair?”
“Will you let us go over the stock sheet with you?”
“Certainly.”
This was done, and at the end of an hour the insurance men said they would recommend that the company pay Mr. Hardy nineteen hundred dollars in full for his claims. As this was not such a big cut as he had feared, Frank’s father said he would accept the amount if the sum was forthcoming inside of thirty days.
“I am sure I have made a good bargain with the insurance people,” said Mr. Hardy to his wife, when they were alone. “I have done much better than if I had sold out to any of my rivals.”
“Yes, and the best of it is, you are now under no obligations to your rivals,” returned Mrs. Hardy.
“I did not get exactly what I think the stock was worth, but one cannot expect to get that when one is burnt out.”
“What will you do, Thomas, when they pay the money?”