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have some business with him," snarled Wolverton. "He played a trick on me this morning."

      "What sort of a trick?"

      "I got him to carry me across the creek in his boat, and he managed to upset me."

      "Did he do it a-purpose?"

      "Yes; he laughed like a hyena when he saw me floundering in the water."

      "If he comes round here, I'll give him a lesson. I can't abide a nigger any way. They're as lazy as sin, and they ain't got no more sense than a monkey. It's my opinion they are a kind of monkey, any way."

      Fortunately for the colored race all are not so prejudiced against them as Sally Wolverton – otherwise they would be in a bad case.

      "By the way, Sally, have you seen a stray paper about the floor in my room?" asked Wolverton, with assumed carelessness.

      "What sort of a paper was it?"

      "It was a – a receipt," answered her brother, hesitating.

      "What kind of a receipt – from whom?" asked Sally, who possessed her share of general curiosity.

      "That isn't to the point. If you have seen such a paper, or picked it up, I shall feel relieved. I might have to pay the money over again if I don't find it."

      This was misrepresenting the matter, but Wolverton did not think it expedient to give his sister a clew to so delicate a secret.

      "No; I have seen no paper," she said shortly, not relishing his evasive reply. "Have you searched your desk?"

      "Yes."

      "And didn't find it?"

      "No."

      "Suppose I look. Four eyes are better than two."

      "No, thank you, Sally," answered her brother, hastily. "I am particular about not having my papers disturbed."

      Aaron Wolverton would have gained some valuable information touching the missing paper if he could have transferred himself at that moment to Burton's Ranch.

      Bob and Clip were out in the yard when Sam Wolverton made his appearance, breathless and excited.

      "What's the matter, Sam?" asked Bob, wondering.

      "Let me catch my breath," gasped Sam. "I – I've got some good news."

      "Then you are welcome. Has your uncle got married?"

      "No; nor aunt Sally either," replied Sam. "What do you say to that?" and he drew from his vest pocket a long strip of paper.

      "What's that?" asked Bob, eagerly.

      "It's the receipt", answered Sam.

      CHAPTER IX

      SAM'S GIFT

      "What!" exclaimed Bob, in great excitement. "Not the receipt for the money?"

      "That's just what it is," answered Sam, nodding emphatically.

      "Let me see it."

      Sam put the paper in Bob's hand.

      There it was in regular form, a receipt for one hundred and fifty dollars, being the semi-annual interest on a mortgage on Burton's Ranch, dated on the day of Richard Burton's death, and signed by Aaron Wolverton.

      "Hurrah!" shouted Bob, waving it aloft. "Then father did pay it, after all, and that mean scoundrel – excuse my speaking of your uncle in such terms, Sam – "

      "I don't mind," said Sam, philosophically.

      "That mean scoundrel wanted us to pay the money a second time. I'm ever so much obliged to you, Sam. But where on earth did you find it?"

      "I'll tell you, Bob," answered Sam, perching himself on the fence. "This forenoon Uncle Aaron started out on business – I don't know where he went."

      "I know," said Clip, giving way to a burst of merriment.

      "How do you know?"

      "I rowed him across de creek. I was out in de boat when old Massa Wolverton come along and axed me to take him across. I made him pay me a nickel, and he got into de boat," and Clip began to laugh once more.

      "I don't see anything to laugh at, Clip."

      "You would, massa Bob, ef you'd been dar. We was almost across when de old boat upset, yah! yah! and old Massa Wolverton – it makes me laugh like to split – tumbled into de water, and got wet as a drownded rat."

      "Clip, you bad boy, you did it on purpose," said Bob, trying to look stern.

      "Wish I may die!" asseverated Clip, stoutly, for he was not an imitator of George Washington. "Didn't de old man look mad, dough? He jest shook his fist at me, and called me a black imp, 'deed he did."

      "I am afraid he was right, Clip," said Bob, shaking his head. "But you haven't told me about the receipt, Sam."

      "He sent me into his room to get his hat, when right down on the floor by his desk, I saw a piece of paper. I remembered what you told me, Bob, about the receipt, so I picked it up and slipped it into my pocket. I had to be quick about it, for Uncle Aaron is always in a hurry. Well, I took out the hat, and I didn't dare to take out the paper and look at it till he was out of sight."

      "And then – "

      "Well, then I saw it was the paper you wanted."

      "Mr. Wolverton took it from the pocket of my poor father when he lay dead on the spot where he was thrown out," said Bob, gravely. "It would be hard to think of a meaner piece of rascality."

      "Well, I'm glad you've got it, Bob. I don't know as I was right in taking it, but I'll take the risk."

      "If you never do anything worse than that, Sam, you won't have much to answer for. I wish you'd let me give you something."

      "No, Bob, you are my friend, and it would be a pity if I couldn't do you a favor without getting paid for it."

      "But this is a great favor. It is worth a hundred and fifty dollars. Without it we might, and probable would, have to pay the interest money over again. Now, when your uncle calls for it, we shall only have to show him the receipt."

      "He'll wonder where it came from."

      "I hope it won't get you into trouble, Sam."

      "He won't suspect me. He'll know I couldn't break into his desk, and he won't know anything about having dropped it on the floor. I don't see how he came to be so careless."

      "Depend upon it, Sam, it was the work of Providence. Mother says that God often overrules the designs of the wicked, and I think this is an instance. Henceforth, Sam, though you are old Wolverton's nephew, I shall consider you a friend of our family. Why can't you stay to supper to-night?"

      "It would never do, Bob, unless I asked permission."

      "Then ask permission."

      "I am afraid it wouldn't be granted."

      "If your uncle is as mean as I think he is, he would be glad for you to get a meal at the expense of somebody else."

      "He wouldn't like to have me enjoy myself," said Sam.

      "Is he so mean as that?"

      "Whenever he hears me singing, he looks mad, and wants to know why I am making a fool of myself."

      "He's an uncle to be proud of," said Bob, ironically.

      "I just wish I could live at your house, Bob."

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