"Yes; and that will provide for my next interest. I feel grateful and happy at Tom's success and his thoughtfulness."

Could Tom have seen the effect of his remittance it would have made his heart glad, and he would have felt abundantly repaid for his labor and self-denial.

CHAPTER XXVI.

SQUIRE HUDSON'S DISAPPOINTMENT.

If Whiteface was missed at her old home, she was scarcely less appreciated by her new possessor. On the very morning succeeding the day when Tom's remittance was received the squire remarked to his head workman, "Whiteface is an excellent cow, Abner."

"Yes, squire, I calculate she's the best you've got."

"I don't know but she is, Abner," said the squire, complacently. "I consider her worth at least fifty dollars."

"So she is, every cent of it."

"And she cost me only thirty," thought Squire Hudson, with a smile of content.

He was a rich man, and abundantly able to pay his poor neighbor the full value of the cow; but somehow it never occurred to him to do it. He was not above taking an unfair advantage of a man who was unluckily in his power. Of course the squire knew that Farmer Nelson had a right to redeem the cow at the price agreed upon with interest; but he felt pretty safe on this point. The farmer was not very likely to have thirty dollars to spare, and as for a remittance from Tom the squire was pretty sure none would be received.

"It'll be all the boy can do to take care of himself out there," he reflected, "let alone sending money home. He may send ten dollars or so some time; but it's very doubtful, very doubtful!"

Squire Hudson turned to go back to the house when he saw the man of whom he had been thinking coming up the road. He stopped short, thinking the farmer might wish to speak to him.

"Good-morning, Mr. Nelson," he said, pleasantly, for he was in good-humor.

"Good-morning, squire."

"Your Whiteface has got to feel quite at home in my barn-yard."

"She is a good cow, Squire Hudson."

"Yes, tolerable, tolerable."

"She is worth more than the thirty dollars for which you took her."

"Well, I don't know about that. Cows are pretty cheap nowadays."

"I see how it is," thought the squire. "Nelson wants me to allow him more for the cow; but a bargain is a bargain, and I shan't do it."

"I always valued her at a considerably higher price."

"No doubt, no doubt. You raised her yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"That makes a difference, of course. You attach a sentimental value to her; but that doesn't affect her real value. I really can't allow you any more for her."

"I don't want you to, Squire Hudson."

The squire looked astonished.

"What is the man driving at?" he thought.

"She may not be worth any more to you, and so you won't mind my taking her back."

"Taking her back!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the squire.

"Certainly; it was agreed that I could redeem her at any time, by paying you the thirty dollars and interest."

"Not after two months," said the squire, hastily.

"It is not two months. It was only six weeks yesterday. The fact is, squire, I've come for Whiteface, and I've got the money for you."

"Have you heard from Tom?" asked the squire, with a blank look of disappointment.

"Yes; I heard from him yesterday."

"And he sent you some money?"

"Yes; he reports that he is doing well."

"Did he send you thirty dollars?"

"Rather more than that," said Mark Nelson, not caring to gratify the curiosity of his creditor.

"I think you had better keep your money, and leave Whiteface with me,"

said Squire Hudson, after a pause.

"I would rather not, squire. The fact is, Whiteface is a sort of pet at home, and we all want her back."

Squire Hudson was disconcerted. He had not expected that Mr. Nelson would be able to redeem the cow, and he was reluctant to give her up.

But there was no excuse for retaining her. His agreement stood in the way.

"Neighbor Nelson," he said, after a pause, "I don't mind giving you five dollars over and above what you owe me for Whiteface. Come, that's a good offer."

Mark Nelson shook his head.

"She's worth more than that," he said. "But that's neither here nor there. I raised the animal, and it was sorely against my will that I parted with her six weeks ago. Now that I have the money to pay you I want her back."

"I think you are standing in your own light, Mr. Nelson," said the squire. "I have taken a fancy to the cow, and am willing to pay more for her than she is worth. I will say ten dollars."

Mark Nelson shook his head.

"I'd rather have Whiteface than the money," he said.