This was accompanied by an angry stamp of the foot, which, however, did not frighten Mr. Hamlin much.

“I shall not pay a dollar more rent, nor shall I leave the farm I occupy,” returned Mr. Hamlin, whose patience was exhausted by the rough insolence of the man before him.

“So you defy me, do you?” demanded Fairfield, furiously.

“I shall resist your injustice, sir, or rather I would do so if you were able to carry out your threat.  Luckily you have not the power.”

“Have not the power?  You will see if I have not the power!” roared the angry agent.  “I give you notice that at the end of the quarter you must go, at any rate.  After your insolence, I won’t let you stay on any terms.  I wouldn’t let you stay if you would pay double the rent.  Do you hear me, Hamlin?”

“Yes, I hear you.”

Mr. Fairfield looked at the farmer in surprise.  The latter seemed perfectly calm and undisturbed by his threat, though it was of the most serious nature.  He had expected to see him humbled, and to hear him entreat a reversal of the sentence; but his tenant was thoroughly self-possessed, and appeared to care nothing for the agent’s threats.

“You need not expect that I will change my mind,” he added.  “Out of Jackson you must go.  I know there is no other farm which you can hire, and while I am Mr. Percival’s agent, you need expect no favors from me.”

“I don’t expect any while you are Mr. Percival’s agent,” said Mr. Hamlin.

There was something in the farmer’s tone that arrested the agent’s attention and excited his curiosity, though it did not awaken his alarm, and he could not help saying: 

“Then what do you expect?  Do you think I am going to die?”

“I don’t expect that you will die or resign, Mr. Fairfield.  You may be removed.”

“Have you been writing to Mr. Percival?” exclaimed Fairfield, in mingled anger and apprehension.

“No, sir; I have not communicated with him in any way.  You would not give me his address.”

“Of course I would not,” said the agent, feeling relieved.  “It would be mere impertinence for you to write to him.”

“Fortunately there is no immediate occasion for me to do so, as he has sent a representative here to investigate your official conduct.”

“A representative!” exclaimed Fairfield, now thoroughly startled.  “Where is he?  I have not seen him.”

“He is present,” said Mr. Hamlin, indicating Frank.

The agent broke into a scornful laugh.

“You?  Why, you are a peddler!”

“Only in appearance, Mr. Fairfield.  I assumed that business in order not to attract attention or excite suspicion.  I am really Mr. Percival’s private secretary, as I can prove to your satisfaction.”

“Is this true?” he asked, in a changed voice.

“Yes, sir; quite true.”

“Have you written to Mr. Percival?”