security to a Mr. Silas Slocum, who, 'if things work right,' as he
expressed it, intends building a mill on some property which has come,
or is coming, into his hands."

"That's mine--that's mine, my homestead," gasped grandpa, turning
white almost as his hair blowing in the April wind. "There's a stream
of water on it, and he says if he forecloses and gets it he shall
build a mill, and tear our old house down."

Guy was in a dilemma. He had not asked how much Mr. Markham wanted,
and as the latter had not told him, he naturally concluded it a much
larger sum than it really was, and did not care just then to lend it.

"I tell you what I'll do," he said, after a little. "I'll drop Slocum
a note to-night saying I've changed my mind, and shall not let him
have the money. Perhaps, then, he won't be so anxious to foreclose,
and will give you time to look among your friends."

Guy laid a little emphasis on that last word, and looking up quickly
grandpa was about to say: "I am not so much a stranger as you think. I
knew your father well;" but he checked himself with the thought: "No,
that will be too much like begging pay for a deed of mercy done years
ago." So Guy never suspected that the old man before him had once laid
his sire under a debt of gratitude. The more he reflected the less
inclined he was to lend the money, and as grandpa was too timid to
urge his needs, the result was that when at last the wheel was
replaced, and Sorrel again trotting on toward Devonshire, he drew
after him a sad, heavy heart, and not once until the village was
reached did he hear the cheery chuckle with which his kind master was
wont to encourage him.