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 against you," went on the squire, smoothly. "I've no doubt you have forgotten the payment of the debt, and–"
"I don't forget so easily, though I am sixty-five. Don't fear that I shall ask for it again—indeed, I haven't asked for it at all—but I shall not forget how you have treated my claim. Of course it amounts to nothing in law—it's outlawed long ago—but I only wish my poor brother were alive to disprove your words."
Even Albert Marlowe was shamed by the old man's sorrowful dignity.
"We can't agree about that, Uncle Jacob," he said; "but if ever you get very hard up, let me know, and I'll see if I can't help you—in a small way."
"You are very kind," answered the old man, "but I don't think that time will come. As you say, my wants are few, and I am still able to work. I'll go up to my room and get my valise, and then I'll go over to Mary Barton's."
"Thank Heaven! I've got rid of him," mused the squire, as from the doorway he saw Uncle Jacob walking slowly down the street. "I was afraid he'd mention that money he lent father. With twenty-seven years' interest it would amount to a good deal of money—more than I could well spare. I don't think I shall hear from it again."
"Has he gone, Albert?" asked Mrs. Marlowe, returning to the breakfast-room.
"Yes; I told him you were indisposed, and couldn't stand excitement."
"No matter what you told him, as long as we are rid of him."
CHAPTER VI
SQUIRE MARLOWE IS SURPRISED
Mrs. Barton was washing the breakfast dishes, and was alone, Bert having gone to his daily work at the shoe shop, when the outer door opened and Uncle Jacob entered the cottage, valise in hand.
"I've accepted your offer sooner than you expected, Mary," he said.
"You are heartily welcome, Uncle Jacob," responded his niece, with evident sincerity. "If you can put up with our poor accommodations after being entertained in Albert's luxurious home–"
"Don't trouble yourself about that, Mary," interrupted the old man. "Albert doesn't want me. He civilly asked me to find another stopping place."
"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Mrs. Barton indignantly.
"You see," explained Uncle Jacob, with a quiet smile, "his wife was taken suddenly indisposed—after she found I wasn't as rich as she expected."
"I hope you won't take it too much to heart, Uncle Jacob," observed Mary Barton, in a tone of solicitude.
Uncle Jacob's amused laugh reassured her.
"It is just what I expected, Mary," he said, "and I shan't grieve over it much. You ought to have seen how they all looked when I asked Albert's advice about opening a small cigar and candy store in the village. You can imagine what a mortification it would be to my high-toned nephew to have my sign out,
over a small seven by nine store, when our relationship was known."
"I hope that won't prevent your carrying out the plan, Uncle Jacob. If your gains are small, you can make your home with us and pay what you can afford."
"Thank you, Mary, you are a true friend, and I shan't forget your kind offer. But I never had the slightest idea of opening such a store. I only mentioned it to test Albert."
"But you will have to do something, Uncle Jacob," said Mary Barton, perplexed; "and that would be as easy as anything. Bert could go in the evening and help you if you found it too confining."
"I have something else in view in the city," returned Jacob. "I don't need to earn much you know. I don't set up to be a dude," he added, with a comical glance at his rustic attire, "and I don't mean to board at the Fifth Avenue Hotel."
"I am sorry you can't stay in Lakeville," said Mrs. Barton regretfully.
"I will stay here a week, Mary, to get acquainted with you and your boy. I have taken a fancy to him. He is a fine, manly youth, worth a dozen of such fellows as Percy Marlowe."
"Indeed, he is a good boy," said his mother proudly. "I don't see what I could do without him."
"So, Mary, if you'll show me where you are going to accommodate me, I'll go up and take possession."
"Will you mind my putting you in with Bert? I have but two chambers."
"Not a bit. It will be all the better. If I were going to stay here permanently I would build an extension to the house for you."
"But that would be expensive, Uncle Jacob."
"So it would. I'm always forgetting that I am not a rich man. You see I was rich once. As I told Albert, I have seen the time when I had a hundred thousand dollars to my credit in a bank of Sacramento."
"Oh, Uncle Jacob! Why didn't you invest it in government bonds, and you would have been independent for life?"
"Because I was not so prudent as my niece, I suppose. However, it's no use crying over spilt milk, and I've got a matter of five hundred dollars left."
"But that won't last long, Uncle Jacob."
"Not unless I work. But I'm pretty rugged yet, and I guess I can manage to scrape along."
When Bert came home to dinner, he was surprised and pleased to find Uncle Jacob installed and evidently feeling quite at home.
"I wish I could stay at home this afternoon to keep you company," he said; "but I have only an hour for dinner."
"Business first, my boy!" said the old man. "For pleasure we'll wait till this evening. Is there a livery stable in the village?"
"Yes, sir; Houghton's."
"Then after supper we'll hire a buggy, and you and your mother and I will take a ride."
"But, Uncle Jacob, you forget that it will cost a dollar, or perhaps two."
"No, I don't, Mary; but I'm having a vacation, and I want to enjoy myself a little before pitching into hard work again. I am sure you will be the better for a ride."
"Yes, I shall. I haven't had one for months, and it will be a real treat."
"Then we will cast prudence to the winds for once, and have a good time. I suppose you can drive, Bert."
"Oh yes, sir; I like it. I worked for a few weeks in the grocery store, and drove every day. I like a horse."
"So do I; but I don't care much about handling the reins myself. You'll promise not to upset the carriage, as Percy did the other day?"
"Not unless we meet two tramps, as he did," said Bert, laughing.
"I declare, Mary, there is your boy calling his old uncle a tramp."
"And myself, too, uncle."
"That makes it seem a little better. Are you going back to the shop?"
"Yes, uncle; my time is up."
"I'll walk along with you."
As the two walked together, Uncle Jacob took a five dollar bill from his pocket, and handed it to Bert.
"There, Bert," he said, "I want you to give that to your mother toward buying groceries and meat this week, as her expenses will be increased by my being in the house."
"But, Uncle Jacob, we don't want you to pay board."
"I am able to do it, and prefer it, Bert. So say no more about it."
In truth, this donation was a relief to Bert and his mother, for they were compelled to economize closely, and yet wanted to live well while Uncle Jacob was visiting them.
About seven o'clock Bert drove round to the house in a handsome top buggy, drawn by a spirited black horse, the