"You put me out of all patience," said Wolverton, furiously. "Are you going to row or are you not?"
"I want my money," said Clip.
Wolverton was compelled to hand over a nickel, but registered a vow that if ever he caught Clip on land, he would make him pay for his impudence.
Clip took the oars, and made very good progress till he was about fifty feet from the other side of the creek. Then he began to make the boat rock, stopping his rowing.
"What are you about?" shouted Wolverton, turning pale.
"It's good fun, ain't it, Massa Wolverton?" said Clip; laughing insolently.
"Stop, you little rascal! You'll upset the boat."
"Golly! ain't dis fun?" said Clip, continuing his rocking.
"I'll choke you, if you don't stop," screamed Wolverton.
He rose to catch hold of Clip. The boy jumped up, and ducked his head. The result of the combined motion was that the boat, which was flat-bottomed, capsized, and the two were thrown into the water.
There was no danger, for the water at this point was only four feet deep; and Clip could swim, while Aaron Wolverton was too tall to be drowned in that depth of water.
Wolverton was almost scared out of his wits. He cut such a ludicrous figure as he floundered in the water, that Clip screamed with delight. The black boy swam to the boat, and, managing to right her, got in again; but Wolverton waded to the shore, almost beside himself with rage.
"Is you wet, Massa Wolverton?" asked Clip, innocently, showing his white teeth.
"Come ashore, and I'll lick you!" shouted Wolverton, who had by this time landed, his clothes dripping wet.
"I reckon I'm too busy," answered Clip, with a grin. "I'm sorry you's wet, Massa Wolverton. Hi yah!"
"I'll wring your neck, you young tike!" said Wolverton, savagely.
"Dat old man's a hog," mused Clip. "Ain't much like my poor old gran'ther. He was always kin' an' good. I mind him sittin' in front of de ole cabin door down in Arkansaw. I 'spec' de old chap's done dead afore this," concluded Clip, with a sigh.
Clip kept at a safe distance from shore, and the agent was compelled to defer his vengeance, and go to the house of an acquaintance to borrow some dry clothes.
When he returned, it is needless to say that it was not in Clip's boat.
He opened his desk, to enter a business transaction in his account-book, when he made a startling discovery.
The receipt had disappeared!
CHAPTER VIII
WOLVERTON'S DISMAY
Wolverton uttered a cry of dismay when he found that the receipt had disappeared. With trembling fingers he turned over a pile of papers in the hope of finding the important paper.
"Where on earth can it be?" he asked himself, with a troubled face.
He set himself to consider when he had seen it last and where he had placed it.
"It must be in the desk somewhere," he decided, and resumed his search. Those of my readers who have mislaid any article can picture to themselves his increasing perplexity as the missing paper failed to turn up.
He was finally obliged to conclude that it was not in the desk. But, if so, where could it be? If not found, or if found by any one else, his situation would be an embarrassing one. He had assured Mrs. Burton that the interest money had not been paid. Now suppose the receipt were found, what would be the inference? He could not help acknowledging that it would look bad for him. Until he learned something of its whereabouts he would not dare to press Mrs. Burton for a second payment of the interest money.
"It is as bad as losing a hundred and fifty dollars," he groaned. "It is a pile of money to lose."
Aaron Wolverton did not appear to consider that it was losing what was not his property, and was only preventing him from pushing a fraudulent claim. He actually felt wronged by this inopportune loss. He felt somehow that he was the victim of misfortune.
But what could have become of the receipt? That was what troubled him. Was there anybody who was responsible for its disappearance? Naturally it would be important for Mrs. Burton to get hold of it; but then, they did not know of its existence. They had no evidence that the receipt had even been delivered to Richard Burton. Still it was possible that Bob Burton had visited the house, and searched the desk. He would inquire of his sister.
He opened the door leading to the kitchen, where Miss Sally Wolverton was engaged in some domestic employment.
"Sally, has the Burton boy been here this morning?"
"No; why should he come? He isn't one of your visitors, is he?"
"Was he here yesterday?"
"No; what makes you ask?"
"There was a little business, connected with the farm, which he might have come about."
"I am glad he didn't come," said Sally. "He's too high-strung for me."
"I don't like him myself; but sometimes we have to do business with those we don't like."
"That's so. How's the widder left?"
"She's got the ranch, but I hold a mortgage of three thousand dollars on it," replied her brother, his features expanding into a wintry smile. A man who can laugh heartily possesses redeeming traits, even if in some respects he is bad; but Aaron Wolverton had never been known to indulge in a hearty laugh.
"Can she pay?"
"Not at present."
"Is the mortgage for a term of years?"
"No; it can be called in at the end of any year."
"I never liked that woman," said Miss Sally Wolverton, grimly.
Sally Wolverton did not like any woman who was younger and prettier than herself, and there were few who were not prettier. She had never known of her brother's infatuation for the lady she was criticising, otherwise she would have been tempted to express herself even more strongly. She was strongly opposed to his marriage, as this would have removed her from her place in his household, or, even if she remained, would have deprived her of her power. Aaron did not care at present to take her into his confidence. Still he could not forbear coming, in a faint way, to the defense of the woman he admired.
"Mrs. Burton is a fine-looking woman," he said.
"Fine looking!" repeated Sally with a contemptuous sniff. "I don't admire your taste."
"She isn't in your style, Sally," said Aaron, with a sly twinkle in his eye.
Sally Wolverton was taller than her brother, with harsh features, a gaunt, angular figure, and an acid expression.
"I hope not," she answered. "I hope I don't look like an insipid doll."
"You certainly don't, Sally; you have expression enough, I am sure."
"Do you think Mrs. Burton pretty?" asked Sally, suspiciously.
"Oh, so so!" answered Aaron, guardedly; for he did not care to reveal the secret to his sister at present. She was useful to him as a housekeeper, and moreover (an important point) she was very economical; more so than any person whom he could hire. He did indeed pay his sister, but only a dollar a week, and out of this she saved nearly one half, having the gift of economy in quite as large a measure as himself.
This assurance, and her brother's indifferent tone, relieved Sally from her momentary suspicion. Yet, had she been able to read her brother's secret thoughts, she would have been a prey to anxiety. He had made up his mind, if ever he did marry Mrs. Burton, to give Sally her walking-ticket.
"I can't afford to support two women," he reflected, "and my wife ought to be able to do all the work in so small a household."
"Why are you so anxious to know whether any of the Burtons have been here?"
"I thought they might come," answered her brother, evasively.