"I have got a little money for you, Squire Lee," continued Bobby, thinking it time the subject was changed.
He took out his gilded memorandum book, whose elegant appearance rather startled the squire, and from its "treasury department" extracted the little roll of bills, representing an aggregate of ten dollars which he had carefully reserved for his creditor.
"Never mind that, Bobby," replied the squire. "You will want all your capital to do business with."
"I must pay my debts before I think of any thing else."
"A very good plan, Bobby, but this is an exception to the general rule."
"No, sir, I think not. If you please, I insist upon paying you tea dollars on my note."
"O, well, if you insist, I suppose I can't help myself."
"I would rather pay it, I shall feel so much better."
"You want to indorse it on the note, I suppose."
That was just what Bobby wanted. Indorsed on the note was the idea, and our hero had often passed that expression through his mind. There was something gratifying in the act to a man of business integrity like himself; it was discharging a sacred obligation,—he had already come to deem it a sacred duty to pay one's debts,—and as the squire wrote the indorsement across the back of the note, he felt more like a hero than ever before.