Guy did not delay long in New York. He called upon Gilbert Frazer, the American agent of his employer, and attended to the business that had been intrusted to him.

Mr. Frazer, a canny Scotchman, somewhat over fifty, was amazed that Mr. Saunders had so far trusted “a mere boy”; but in his conversation with Guy he found that “the mere boy” was quick and intelligent, and seemed thoroughly to comprehend the business on which he was employed.

“You are an extraordinary boy,” he said, raising his glasses, and peering at Guy from under the rims. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen, sir.”

“You seem to have the brains of a man of twenty-five.”

“Thank you, sir. I suppose I may consider that a compliment?”

“Surely. When will you call again? I shall need to have some further words with you.”

“I wish to visit my father, whom I have not seen for six months or more, but I will return to the city in four days.”

“Where does your father live?”

“In Bayport, Massachusetts.”

“Very good. I will expect you in four days. There will be no harm in waiting that length of time.”

“Now,” said Guy to himself, joyfully, “I shall soon be at home.”

He engaged passage by the steamer Pilgrim of the Fall River Line, and started that night.

He found himself the next morning in New Bedford. Here he took a stage for Bayport.

His heart beat with excitement when he reached the borders of his native village. He realized the charms of home.

He had traveled many thousand miles by land and sea, he had seen London and Bombay, but neither of these cities seemed so attractive to him as the obscure town on the Massachusetts coast where he had passed his boyhood days.

The first person whom he saw when he descended from the stage was Noah Crane.

In fact, Noah had managed to be around when the stage arrived, in the hope of meeting Guy.

Guy was so pleased to see a familiar face that he forgot the old animosity between himself and the deacon’s son, and exclaimed, gladly: “How are you, Noah? It seems good to see an old friend!”

“So you’ve got back?” said Noah, coolly.

“Yes, I’ve got back.”

“I thought you’d be back before long.”

Then it dawned upon Guy that Noah looked upon him as a failure, and it amused him.

“Of course I would come back, since my father lives here. Is he well?”

“Oh, yes, he’s well—in health.”

“Isn’t he well in other respects?”

“Well, you see, some of the people want a younger minister. I don’t know how it will turn out.”

“I suppose your father is one who favors a change?”

“Well, he seems to think it might be better for the parish.”

Guy smiled. The suggestion did not trouble him as it might have done six months before.

“Besides,” continued Noah, “he may lose his house.”

This was certainly news.

“I don’t understand you,” said Guy. “The house belongs to him.”

“Yes, but there’s a mortgage on it.”

“Well?”

“Father holds the mortgage, and as your father can’t pay it, of course he’ll have to give it up.”

“Do you remember how large the mortgage is, Noah?”

“Five hundred dollars.”

“That isn’t much. He ought to be able to borrow that small sum.”

“Seems to me you have pretty large ideas. It’ll be a long time before you’ll be able to earn five hundred dollars.”

“Well, perhaps so,” said Guy, smiling.

“Now you’ve come back to live on your father, it’ll be harder still for him.”

“Perhaps I shall get work,” answered Guy, smiling again.

“Yes; you’ll have to earn something. My father says he will hire you to work on our farm.”

“That’s very kind of him.”

“He does it on account of your father. He feels for him, considering he has been so much disappointed in you.”

“I didn’t expect so much kindness from the deacon and you. I’ll think over this offer, if he decides to make it. But I can’t stop talking here any longer. I know father will be anxious to see me.”

“Guy is a queer boy,” thought Noah. “When I told him about his father’s troubles he only smiled as if he didn’t care. I’d like to take as long a journey as he has, but I shouldn’t like to return home a pauper.”

“Noah is as kind and amiable as ever,” thought Guy. “Evidently he thinks I am a bad failure. I wonder how he will feel when he learns how fortunate I have been.”

In a few minutes he found himself entering the yard of the parsonage.

Guy was touched by his father’s evident delight. He began to understand how near he was to his heart.

“Welcome home, Guy!” he said. “I have had my cares and anxieties, but this pays me for all!”

“Thank you, father. It seems good to be at home again.”

“And you have been in good health all the time, Guy?”

“Never better, father.”

“You must be hungry, my son. Come in, and you shall try some of Rachel’s home cooking.”

“Indeed, father, I can do it justice. Were you surprised to receive my letter?”

“Yes, Guy. I thought you were thousands of miles away. How did you like your employer, Mr. Saunders?”

The father asked this doubtfully, not knowing on what terms his son had left the merchant.

“He is an excellent man, and a good friend, father.”

“Then how did it happen that he discharged you, Guy?” asked the minister.

“Who told you he discharged me?”

“I judged so on account of your return home.”

“I am still in his employ, father. I went to England first, and have now come to America as his agent, and on his business. And you actually thought I was discharged?”

“Yes, Guy; and Deacon Crane is of the same opinion.”

“I know that,” said Guy, with a laugh. “I met Noah on getting off the stage. I really believe he went to meet me.”

“I did not know you were friends.”

“We are not. He wanted to triumph over me on account of my supposed discharge. He offered me a place on his father’s farm.”

“And Mr. Ainsworth is ready to give you a position in his store.”

“Mr. Ainsworth is a friend. I would not mind working for him if there was any need of it; but nothing would induce me to work for the deacon.”

“But how can you be in the employ of Mr. Saunders while you are here?”

“I am under pay all the time, father. I cannot be with you long. I must be in New York in four days, to attend to some business there, and soon after shall be obliged to start again on a long journey.”

“It seems strange, Guy, to think of you as in the employ of a man thousands of miles away. Are your prospects good?”

“Excellent, father. And now tell me about yourself. Has Deacon Crane been making trouble for you in the parish?”

“Yes, Guy. He tried to stir up opposition to me in favor of a younger man, but he found very few to join him. My good parishioners stood by me.

“Good for them! As for the deacon, he is a mean, malicious, double-faced man!”

“We must not speak ill of others, Guy.”

“He deserves it, if anyone does! But you spoke of anxieties. To what do you refer?”

“To a very great one, Guy. You did not perhaps know that this house was mortgaged?”

“Yes; Noah kindly informed me of it when we met this morning.”

“It is his father, Deacon Crane, who holds the mortgage.”

“What is the sum?”

“Five hundred dollars.”

“That is not a large sum.”

“No; but the deacon wants it. He will not consent to extend it.”

“Can you borrow it in the village?”

“No, Guy. Times are hard. No one has any extra money. My good friend Ainsworth would lend it to me if he had it, but at present he can’t raise it.”

“Then what will follow?”

“The place will be sold to satisfy the claim. Deacon Crane has offered a thousand dollars over and above the mortgage.”

“Why, that is robbery!” said Guy, indignantly.

“True, Guy, but it can’t be helped. The deacon will secure the house, and I shall be turned out!”

“No, you won’t, father!”

“What do you mean, Guy?”

“When does the mortgage fall due?”

“To-morrow.”

“Very well; don’t borrow any trouble, father. It shall be paid.”

“But how? I don’t understand.”

“I have more than enough money to meet it.”

“But, Guy, it would not be right to use your employer’s money!”

“There is no need of that. I have more than enough money of my own.”