The old Squire was back from Portland; grandmother and the girls had told him that we had gone to the auction.

The first thing he did was to ask us whether the farm had been sold, and how much it had brought.
"Two thousand and fifty," said I, with a glance at Addison.
"That's all it's worth," the old Squire said.

"Who bought it ?" Addison looked embarrassed; and to help him out I said jocosely, "Oh, it was bid off by a young fellow we saw there." "What was his name ?" the old Squire asked in surprise.
"He spells it A-d-d-i-s-o-n," said I.
There was a sudden pause round the table.
"Yes," I continued, laughing, for I thought the best thing for Ad was to have the old Squire know the facts at once.

"He paid $100 of it down, and he has to get round with nineteen hundred and fifty more by to-morrow noon." Food was quite forgotten by this time.

The old Squire, grandmother, and the girls were looking at Addison in much concern.
"Haven't you been rather rash ?" the old Squire said, gravely.
"Maybe I have," Addison admitted.