CHAPTER II.

SQUIRE CARTER.


When Mr. Grant entered the room, he seemed to Andy to have grown five
years older. His face was sad, and he had lost the brisk, cheerful
manner which was habitual to him.

"Has your mother told you?" he asked.

"Yes, father." Then he added with indignation: "What a wicked man Mr.
Lawrence must be!"

"I suppose he was tempted," said Mr. Grant, slowly. "Here is a note I
received from him this morning."

Andy took the envelope from his father's hand, and, opening it, read the
following lines:

"OLD FRIEND: Perhaps by the time you receive this letter you will
have heard of the wrong I have done you and yours, and the loss I
have brought upon you. It is to me a source of the greatest sorrow,
for I fear you will never recover from it. I am just ready to go
away. I cannot stay here to receive punishment, for it would tie my
hands, and prevent my making reparation, as I hope some day to do.
Why did I go wrong? I can't explain, except that it was infatuation.
In a moment of madness I took some of the funds of the bank and
risked them in Wall Street. I lost and went in deeper, hoping to be