o sell the farm, and then
we should be quite helpless."

About seven o'clock Squire Carter made his appearance. Andy opened the
door for him.

He was a tall, florid-faced man, with an air of consequence based upon
his knowledge that he was the richest man in the town.

"Good-evening, Andrew," he said, for he was always formal. "So you are
home from school?"

"Yes, sir."

"When did you come?"

"This afternoon, sir."

"I suppose you heard of your father's misfortune?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ha! it is very sad--very sad, indeed. I quite feel for your father. I
am trying to help him out of his trouble. He was a very foolish man to
risk so much on that rascal, Lawrence."

Andy was disposed to agree with the squire, but he did not like to hear
his father blamed.

"I think he realizes that he was unwise, Squire Carter," said Andy.
"Won't you walk in?"

"I suppose your father is at home?" said the squire, as he stepped into
the front entry.

"Yes, sir; he was expecting you."

Andy opened the door of the sitting room, and the squire entered. Mr.
Grant rose from the rocking-chair in which he was seated and welcomed
his visitor.

"I am glad to see you, squire," he said. "Take a seat by the fire."

"Thank you," said the squire, with dignity. "I came, as I said I would.
I do not desert an old neighbor because he has been unfortunate."

But for his patronizing tone his words would have awakened more
gratitude. As it was, his manner seemed to say: "See how kind-hearted I
am."

Somehow, Andy felt more and more sorry to think his father must be
indebted to such a man.

"It is getting quite fallish," said the squire, rubbing his hands. "I
suppose I am more sensitive to cold, as my home is heated throughout
with steam."

"I hope we shall be able to make you comfortable, Squire Carter,"
returned Mrs. Grant, who had entered the room in time to hear this last
speech.

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Grant. I always adapt myself to circumstances."

"That is very kind in you," Andy was tempted to say, but he forbore. It
would not do to offend the village magnate.

"I see you have sent for Andrew," observed the squire, with a wave of
his hand toward the boy.

"Yes; I shall not be able to keep him at Penhurst Academy any longer."

"Very sensible decision of yours. No doubt it cost you a pretty penny to
keep him there?"

"The school charge is three hundred dollars a year."

"Bless my soul! How extravagant! You will excuse my saying