Then he put his money in his pocket and
turned away.
"Morn'n' to ye, Mr. Merrick."
"Stop a bit," said Uncle John, suddenly.
The agent stopped.
"I believe I paid you ten dollars for Miss Ethel Thompson's services. Is
that correct?"
"Ye--yes, Mr. Merrick."
McNutt's heart was in his shoes and he looked guiltily at his accuser,
the pale blue eyes bulging fearfully.
"Very well; see that she gets it."
"Of course, Mr. Merrick."
"And at once. You may go."
McNutt stumped from the barn. He felt that a dreadful catastrophe had
overtaken him. Scarcely could he restrain the impulse to sob aloud. Ten
dollars!--Ten dollars gone to the dogs as the result of his visit to the
nabob that morning! To lose ten dollars in order to gain three was very
bad business policy. McNutt reflected bitterly that he would have been
better off had he stayed at home. He ought to have been contented with
what he had already made, and the severe manner the nabob had used in
addressing him told the agent plainly that he need not expect further
pickings from this source.
In the midst of his despair the comforting thought that Ethel would
surely refuse the money came to sustain him; so he recovered somewhat
his former spirits. As he turned the corner of the house he observed
Louise still reading in the hammock.
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