Five Hundred Dollars | Page 9

to him, the loan, but that he repaid it within
three years from the time he received it."
"What!" exclaimed Uncle Jacob, pushing his spectacles up, in his
amazement. "Your father said that?"
"Yes, he did," answered Albert Marlowe, with unabashed effrontery.
"That he paid back the five hundred dollars I lent him?"
"That's what I said," repeated the squire, impatiently.

"Then it's a lie--not of my brother's, but of--somebody's. That money
remains unpaid to this day."
Squire Marlowe shrugged his shoulders. "No doubt you think so," he
said, "but you are growing 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,
JACOB MARLOWE,
Candy and Cigars.
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