This letter was signed by Mr. Morton's agent.
“I was very glad to get that letter, Frank,” said his companion. “I don't think I care so much for the money, though that is not to be despised, since it will enable me to do more good than at present I have it in my power to do. But there is one thing I care for still more, and that is, to redeem my father's memory from reproach. In the last letter he ever wrote he made a specific statement, which this lawyer declares to be false. The evidence of his clerk will hurl back the falsehood upon himself.”
“How strange it is, Mr. Morton,” exclaimed Frank, “that you should have saved the life of a son of the man who has done so much to injure you!”
“Yes, that gives me great satisfaction. I do not wish Squire Haynes any harm, but I am determined that justice shall be done. Otherwise than that, if I can be of any service to him, I shall not refuse.”
“I remember now,” said Frank, after a moment's pause, “that, on the first Sunday you appeared at church, Squire Haynes stopped me to inquire who you were.”
“I am thought to look much as my father did. He undoubtedly saw the resemblance. I have often caught his eyes fixed upon me in perplexity when he did not know that I noticed him. It is fourteen years since my father died. Retribution has been slow, but it has come at last.”
“When do you go on to New York?” asked Frank, recalling the agent's request.
“I shall start to-morrow morning. For the present I will ask you to keep what I have said a secret even from your good mother. It is as well not to disturb Squire Haynes in his fancied security until we are ready to overwhelm him with our evidence.”
“How long shall you be absent, Mr. Morton?”
“Probably less than a week. I shall merely say that I have gone on business. I trust to your discretion to say nothing more.”
“I certainly will not,” said Frank. “I am very much obliged to you for having told me first.”
The two rose from their grassy seats, and walked slowly back to the farmhouse.
CHAPTER XXX. FRANK CALLS ON SQUIRE HAYNES
The next morning Mr. Morton was a passenger by the early stage for Webbington, where he took the train for Boston. Thence he was to proceed to New York by the steamboat train.