w, Mother," said Ernest soberly.
"Let me hear the whole truth about the matter."

"Seven years ago your father gave his note to old James Patterson,
Jacob's brother," said Mrs. Duncan. "It was for nine hundred dollars.
Two years afterwards the note fell due and he paid James Patterson the
full amount with interest. I remember the day well. I have only too
good reason to. He went up to the Patterson place in the afternoon
with the money. It was a very hot day. James Patterson receipted the
note and gave it to your father. Your father always remembered that
much; he was also sure that he had the note with him when he left the
house. He then went over to see Paul Sinclair. A thunderstorm came up
while he was on the road. Then, as you know, Ernest, just as he turned
in at Paul Sinclair's gate the lightning flash struck and stunned him.
It was weeks before he came to himself at all. He never did come
completely to himself again. When, weeks afterwards, I thought of the
note and asked him about it, we could not find it; and, search as we
did, we never found it. Your father could never remember what he did
with it when he left James Patterson's. Neither Mr. Sinclair nor his
wife could recollect seeing anything of it at the time of the
accident. James Patterson had left for California the very morning
after, and he never came back. We did not worry much about the loss of
the note then; it did not seem of much moment, and your father was not
in a condition to be troubled about the matter."

"But, Mother, this note that Jacob Patterson holds--I don't understand
about this."

"I'm coming to that. I remember distinctly that on the evening when
your father came home after signing the note he said that James
Patterson drew up a note and he signed it, but just as he did so the
old man's pet cat, which was sitting on the table, upset an ink bottle
and the ink ran all over the table and stained one end of the note.
Old James Patterson was the fussiest man who ever lived, and a
stickler for neatness. 'Tut, tut,' he said, 'this won't do. Here, I'll
draw up another note and tear this blotted one up.' He did so and your
father signed it. He always supposed James Patterson destroyed the
first one, and certainly he must have intended to, for there never was
an honester man. But he must have neglected to do so for, Ernest, it
was that blotted note Jacob Patterson showed me today. He said he
found it among his brother's papers. I suppose it