"Yes," answered the oldest sister in a strained, unnatural voice that struck terror to the little spy's heart, "Mr. Skinner!"
"But I thought Mr. Hartman held the mortgage," Hope began in bewildered tones.
"He did, dear," Gail answered. "I supposed he still held it; we paid the last interest money to him."
"Then how—"
"Two years ago Mr. Hartman signed a note for old Mr. Lowe on the Liberty Road. The Lowes have always been considered wealthy people, and the two families have been close friends for years, so he thought there would be no trouble about the note; but when it fell due in July Mr. Lowe couldn't pay, and Mr. Hartman had to. He owns quite a little property, I guess, but all his ready money had gone into fixing up his buildings and putting up a new barn. Mr. Skinner wouldn't give an extension of time on the note, and said he would take nothing but cash payment or the mortgage on our farm. He has always wanted this place, it seems, and had expected to get it when papa bought it—you know the first owner was a great friend of our family—and there was some bad feeling over it. He never liked us, and Peace's prank with his bull settled everything. He was fairly insulting—"
"Did you go to see him?" chorused the sisters.
"Surely. I thought there might be a chance of his extending the time on the mortgage, but—he wouldn't listen to me."
"Then we must lose the farm?"
"We have a month more before the mortgage is due, but I don't know where the money to pay is coming from. I am afraid—the farm—must go." She gasped out the words in such misery and despair that Peace found herself crying with the older sister across the hall.
"What will become of us?" choked Hope after a long pause.