I am. Mother put away a hundred pounds, and father has
added fifty to it--and it is for your little one, some day."

"Well," said Jonas, "what I've come about is I wants it now."

"What, the hundred and fifty pounds?"

"Aye, I reckon the hundred and fifty pounds."

"But the money is not left to you."

"I know it b'aint; I want it for the child."

"You are not going to have it."

"Look here. Master Iver Verstage, you never ort to ha' been made
trustee for my child. It's so much as puttin' a slight and an
insult on me. If that child be mine then I'm the one as should
have the trust. Don't I know best what the child wants? Don't I
know best how to lay it out for its advantage? The money ort to
ha' been put in my hands and in none other. That's my opinion."

"Bideabout!" answered Iver, "it is not a question as to what my
father and mother should have done. I did not seek to be made
trustee. It was a freak on the part of my dear mother. As she has
done it, there it is; neither you nor I can alter that."

"Yes. You can renounce trusteeship."

"That will not help. Then I suppose the money would go into
Chancery, and would be consumed there without any of it reaching
the child."

Jonas considered, and then shook his head.

"You can hand it over to me."

"Then I should be held responsible and have to refund when the
little fellow comes of age."

"He may never come of age."

"That neither you nor I can tell."

"Now look here," said the Broom-Squire, assuming an air of
confidence, "between you and me, as old acquaintances, and
me as gave you the feathers out o' a snipe's wing to make your
first brush--and, so to speak, launched you in your career of
greatness--between you and me I'm in an awkward perdic'ment.
Through the failure of the Wealden Bank, of which you've heard
tell, I've lost pretty much everything as I had managed to save
through years of toil and frugality. And now I'm menaced in my
little property. I don't know as I shall be able to hold it,
unless some friend comes to the help. Well, now, who'll that
little property go to but my son--that there precious darlin'
baby as we're talkin' about. He'll grow out o' his squawlin',
and he'll want his property unincumbered and clear, as it came
to me. That I can't give him unless helped. I don't ask that
there hundred and fifty pounds for myself. I know very well that
I can't have it for myself. But I demand it for the child; it is
now or never can the l