Just to think--more'n twenty years--but you're looking well."
Quincy assured him that his health was never better.
"What I wanted to see you about are affairs in Fernborough. What is
Strout up to?"
"You've used just the right word. He's up to something. He's got up a
sign--O. Strout, Fine Groceries--an' says Hiram's out of the firm,
and that he owns the whole business."
Quincy smiled. "So, I've got to fight it out with him again, have I?
Well it will be the final conflict. To use Mr. Strout's words, one or
the other of us will have to leave town. You aren't going back to-
night?"
"Oh, I must."
"Well, come up to the house first and see Alice and the boy. Well go
down to-morrow."
CHAPTER XXIX
THE FINAL CONFLICT
When Tom Chripp showed his father the photograph of the house in
which he was born, he burst into tears.
"Just as pretty as ever," he exclaimed. "The roof's been mended,
beent it, and just the same flowers all around it as when I was a
boy. Tom, I'm glad to see you back safe and sound--but that picter--
Tom, when I die, you just put that picter in the coffin with me,
won't you? I want your grandfather to see that the old place was
looked after when he was gone."
Tom promised.
A dark featured, dark haired man entered Mr. Strout's store. The
proprietor knew he was a stranger--perhaps just moved into town, and
a prospective customer.
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