"I certainly will not," said Frank. "I am very much obliged to you for having told me first."

The two rose from their grassy seats, and walked slowly back to the farmhouse.

CHAPTER XXX. FRANK CALLS ON SQUIRE HAYNES

The next morning Mr. Morton was a passenger by the early stage for Webbington, where he took the train for Boston. Thence he was to proceed to New York by the steamboat train.

"Good-by, Mr. Morton," said Frank, waving his cap as the stage started. "I hope you'll soon be back."

Crack went the whip, round went the wheels. The horses started, and the stage rumbled off, swaying this way and that, as if top-heavy.

Frank went slowly back to the house, feeling quite lonely. He had become so accustomed to Mr. Morton's companionship that his departure left a void which he hardly knew how to fill.

As he reflected upon Mr. Morton's story he began to feel an increased uneasiness at the mortgage held by Squire Haynes upon his father's farm. The time was very near at hand--only ten days off--when the mortgage might be foreclosed, and but half the money was in readiness.