RIPLEY LEARNS THAT THE PIPER MUST BE PAID Scammon, however, knew one person in Gridley whom he thought he could terrorize.

He started in promptly to do it.
At three the next afternoon young Scammon loitered under a big, bare oak on one of the winding, little-traveled streets that led from Gridley out into the open country beyond.
In summer it was a favorite thoroughfare, especially for young engaged couples who wanted to loiter along the road, chatting and picking wild flowers.
In winter, however, the place was usually deserted, being more than a mile out of the city.
As Tip lingered he caught sight of haughty Fred Ripley coming down the road at a fast walk.

Fred looked both angry and worried.
Tip, as soon as he caught sight of the young fellow who imagined himself an "aristocrat," began to grin in his evil way.
A dull, sullen, red fired Fred's cheeks when he caught sight of the one who was waiting for him.
"Ye're most nearly on time," Tip informed the other.
"See here, Scammon, what in blazes did you mean by sending me a note like the one I got from you" demanded Fred?
Tip only grinned.
"What did you mean, fellow ?" Ripley insisted angrily.
"I meant to get ye here, to let ye know what I had to say to ye," Scammon retorted.
"Why, confound you, fellow---" Fred began, stuttering a bit, but the other cut in on him in short fashion.
"None o' that to me, now, Fred Ripley.

D'ye hear?
Me an' you used to be pretty good pals, once on a time." At this charge, Fred winced very plainly.
"And maybe we'll be pals, now, too," Tip pursued, with the air of one who believed himself to be able to dictate terms.

"That is, for your sake, I hope we are, Ripley." "What are you talking about?
What do you want to see me about?
Come to the point in mighty few words," Ripley commanded, impatiently.
"Well, now, first-off, last year, before I went away for my health---" Tip grinned in ghastly fashion 'ye hired me to do a certain job for ye.