“Well, we know you didn’t do it, and this afternoon the colonel foreclosed the mortgage. I’m here to give you notice of it, and to warn you out of the house.”
“Does he mean to turn me out to-night?” asked my father.
“I shall give you legal notice to quit, before witnesses.”
“I will pay rent for the house,” suggested my father.
“That won’t do,” answered Synders, shaking his head. “The house must be sold after legal notice has been given; and in my opinion it won’t bring a dollar over the mortgage, under the hammer.”
“Well, I can’t help myself,” added my father, gloomily.
“You made a bad mistake when you turned upon the colonel,” sneered the officer.
“I didn’t turn upon him; but we will not talk about that.”
My father was very much depressed at the thought of losing the thousand dollars which he had invested in his house. All he had saved was to be swept away from him. The constable procured his witnesses, served his legal notices, and went away chuckling over the misery he left behind him. Doubtless he exaggerated the confusion and dismay of my father when he reported his doings to his employer, and the great man gloated proportionally over the wreck he was making.