The father and daughter trudged along home, the father trying to say
comforting things to Foresta and she weeping the more bitterly the
while. At length it occurred to Mr. Crump that Foresta was more deeply
touched than would have been the case if her trouble had been merely
that of a bruised hand. Stopping, he said,

"Say, now, Foresta, is your mama hurt?"

"O no, papa! Mama is not hurt. Come on!"

"Is Henry----"

Foresta perceived the coming question, and ran to avoid it. They were
now near home. Foresta rushed in and threw her arms around her mother.
Hearing her father's footsteps, she ran into the kitchen, leaving her
mother to break the news.

"Ford, we haven't any little Henry now!" said Mrs. Crump in sad,
soothing tones.

Ford Crump whirled away from his wife and walked rapidly out of the room
through the kitchen into the back yard. Little Henry's chief task was
attending to the chickens, and Mr. Crump stood at the fence running
across the yard to form an enclosure for the fowl.

"Chicks, your best friend is gone," said he.

"My head! my head!" he cried.

Foresta and her mother heard his cry and reached him just in time to
break the force of the fall, but not in time to prevent his answering
the final summons.

CHAPTER IX.

_A Plotter Is He._

Neighbors came and took charge of the body of Ford Crump. The body of
Henry was brought home and received the same kindly attention. Foresta
and her mother now set forth to make arrangements for the burial. The
undertakers asked for a lien on their place as a guarantee of the
payment of the debt.

Upon investigation it transpired that the place had been purchased by
Arthur Daleman, Sr., in his own name. Mr. Crump had paid him in full for
the place but the proper transfer had never been made. Mr. Daleman was
not in the city and Arthur Daleman, Jr., refused to have anything to do
with the matter. He also intimated that unless Mrs. Crump could show a
clear title to the place, she would be charged rent.

This intimation did not worry Mrs. Crump, for she knew Arthur Daleman,
Sr., to be the soul of honor and knew that he would do what was right,
title or no title. But her personal confidence in Mr. Daleman could not
be converted into cash, and she had to look elsewhere for money.

There infested Almaville scores of loan companies that charged
exorbitant rates of interest and had their contracts so arranged that a
failure to pay put them in possessio