me to change it for him
and I did so."

Percy had thought out this falsehood before, and now he uttered it with the
greatest of ease.

"I believe my son speaks the truth," added Squire Paget. "You had better be
going and hunt for your money elsewhere."

"I don't believe he ever had twenty dollars, excepting he saved it out of
the toll money," sneered Percy, and he walked from the room.

Burning with indignation, but unable to help himself toward obtaining his
rights, Ralph arose and without another word left the squire's mansion. It
was too late to attempt to do more that night, and after some hesitation he
went home.

Squire Paget watched him leave the garden, and then locked the front door
and went back to the library.

"Ralph Nelson is getting too important, in his own estimation," he mused.
"I thought he was a mere youngster who could be twisted around one's
finger, but I was mistaken. I must get him out of his situation and compel
him to leave Westville, if possible. I can't do much while he is around
here."

Squire Paget sat for half an hour in his easy chair thinking over his
plans. Then he went to bed.

After breakfast he started out to pay a visit to Benjamin Hooker, the
village postmaster. Hooker, Dicks and the squire were close friends, and
they constituted a majority of the village board, which controlled the
bridge and other local matters.

"Well, squire, what brings you around this morning so early?" questioned
the postmaster, for it was an hour before regular mail time.

"I come to see you about committee matters," returned Squire Paget. "I have
got to report against Ralph Nelson, our bridge tender."

"What's he been a-doing, squire?"

"He insulted and assaulted my only son yesterday in a most outrageous
fashion, without provocation."

"You don't say so!" exclaimed the postmaster. "I thought Nelson was quite a
gentlemanly boy."

"I never did, Benjamin, never! He is nothing but a young tough."

"It's too bad."

"He isn't fit to have on the bridge any longer, and I move we give him a
week's notice," went on the squire. "We don't want passengers on the bridge
insulted on their way over."

"That's so, squire. But what caused the row?"

"Nothing at all, excepting that Nelson has taken a dislike to my son. And
he is such a wicked boy, too, Benjamin. Why, when he heard that my son was
going to proceed against him, what do you suppose he did?"

"What did he do?" questioned the postmaster,