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Updated: June 15, 2025
"Yes, sir," said the groom, respectfully, judging from Paul's dress and tone that he was a young gentleman of fortune. A spirited animal was brought out, and Paul was soon seated in the chaise driving along the Wrenville road.
It was enclosed in a brown envelope, directed in a bold hand to "Mr. John Prescott, Wrenville." The letter was as follows: SIR: I have been waiting impatiently to hear something about the five hundred dollars in which sum you are indebted to me, on account of a loan which I was fool enough to make you seven years since.
I've never known a time when real estate money came in as easily." "Is he talking about real money?" grunted Darrin. "He can't be!" "He is," Tom declared. "That's Buller, of Wrenville. He is a very successful man in real estate. Father knows him." "Humph! Talking of thousands, when a few ten dollar bills would fix us for the summer," muttered Dave Darrin.
It was his purpose to visit Cedarville and repay 'Squire Conant the debt due him: and then, to go across the country to Wrenville, thirty miles distant, to see Aunt Lucy Lee. First, however, he ordered a new suit of a tailor, feeling a desire to appear to the best advantage on his return to the scene of his former humiliation.
It seemed to him almost like a dream. At length he reached Wrenville. Though he had not been there for six years, he recognized the places that had once been familiar to him. But everything seemed to have dwindled. Accustomed to large city warehouses, the houses in the village seemed very diminutive.
This was readily promised, and the boy who gave his name as John Burgess, sat down beside Paul, while he, with the frankness of boyhood, gave a circumstantial account of his father's death, and the ill-treatment he had met with subsequently. "Do you come from Wrenville?" asked John, interested. "Why, I've got relations there. Perhaps you know my cousin, Ben Newcome." "Is Ben Newcome your cousin?
I have been intending to write to you before, knowing the kind interest which you take in me. I got safely to New York a few days after I left Wrenville. I didn't have so hard a time as I expected, having fallen in with a pedler, who was very kind to me, with whom I rode thirty or forty miles. I wish I had time to tell all the adventures I met with on the way, but I must wait till I see you.
It was an old weather-beaten house, of one story, about half a mile distant from 'Squire Newcome's residence. The Prescott family had lived here for five years, or ever since they had removed to Wrenville. Until within a year they had lived comfortably, when two blows came in quick succession. The first was the death of Mrs.
On getting out on the platform he inquired whether there was a livery stable near by. He was directed to one but a few rods distant. Entering he asked, "Can you let me have a horse and chaise to go to Wrenville?" "Yes, sir," said the groom. "Let me have the best horse in the stable," said Paul, "and charge me accordingly."
To his great alarms he recognized in the driver of the approaching vehicle, one of the selectmen of Wrenville. "What's the matter?" asked his companion, noticing his sudden look of apprehension. Paul quickly communicated the ground of his alarm. "And you are afraid he will want to carry you back, are you?" "Yes." "Not a bit of it.
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