a chilling
frown. "You must excuse me for saying that I think you labor under a
delusion."

Uncle Jacob surveyed his neighbor intently, with a gaze which
disconcerted him in spite of his assurance.

"Fortunately, I am able to prove what I say," he rejoined, after a
slight pause.

He drew from his pocket a wallet which bore the signs of long wear, and,
opening it, deliberately drew out a folded sheet of note paper, grown
yellow with age and brittle with much handling. Then, adjusting his
spectacles, he added: "Here's something I'd like to read to you, Albert.
It's written by your father:

MY DEAR JACOB:

I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for lending me the five
hundred dollars I so urgently need. I know it is very nearly, if
not quite, all you possess in the world, and that you can ill spare
it. It will save me from failure, and sometime I hope to repay it
to you. If I cannot, I will ask my son Albert to do so when he is
able. I don't want you to lose by your kindness to me.

Your affectionate brother,
CHARLES MARLOWE.

"You can see the signature, Albert. You know your father's handwriting,
don't you?"

Squire Marlowe reluctantly took the paper and glanced at it.

"It may be my father's writing," he said.

"May be!" repeated the old man, indignantly. "What do you mean by that?"

"I dare say it is. In fact, I remember his mentioning the matter to me
before he died."

"What did he say?"

"That it was quite a favor to him, the loan, but that he repaid it
within three years from the time he received it."

"What!" exclaimed Uncle Jacob, pushing his spectacles up, in his
amazement. "Your father said that?"

"Yes, he did," answered Albert Marlowe, with unabashed effrontery.

"That he paid back the five hundred dollars I lent him?"

"That's what I said," repeated the squire, impatiently.

"Then it's a lie--not of my brother's, but of--somebody's. That money
remains unpaid to this day."

Squire Marlowe shrugged his shoulders. "No doubt you think so," he said,
"but you are growing old, and old people are forgetful. That is the most
charitable view to take of your statement."

"I wouldn't have believed this, Albert," said the old man, sorrowfully.
"And you a rich man, too! I don't mind the money. I can get along
without it. But to be told that I am claiming what has already been
repaid!"

"I don't lay it up ag