“That’s what it is!” declared Joe’s foster-father. “You’ll get neither the money nor the papers!”
“Oh, come now,” began Denton, in rather pleading tones. “You’d better think again, Deacon. Take a little more time, and——”
“I’ve had all the time I want,” said Mr. Blackford. “That’s my last answer—neither the money nor the papers!”
“Well now, if I were you——” began Denton, when Harrison stopped him with a fierce gesture.
“That’s enough,” he cried. “If that’s his last word, it’s ours, too. Come on, Denton.”
He arose as if to leave.
“But I thought we were going to get——”
“Oh, we’ll get what we want, all right!” broke in Harrison.
“Not from me, you won’t!” declared the deacon.
“We’re not through with you yet, and don’t you forget it, Amos Blackford,” retorted Harrison, and his voice was cool and cutting now. “You’ll hear from us again, and in a way you least expect. Come on, Denton,” and, turning, the bold-faced rascal started from the office of the feed and grain dealer.