The day had nearly run to a close, and Mr. Adkin was in the act of estimating his gains, when the man from whom he had purchased the corn entered his store.

“Look here, my friend,” said the latter speaking rather sharply, “you paid me too little for that corn.”

“How so?” returned Mr. Adkin, in well-affected surprise.

“You was to pay the highest market price,” said the man.

“I offered you forty-eight cents.”

“And I asked you if that was the highest rate, didn’t I?”

“I told you that I had bought fifty bushels at that price on Saturday.”

“Oh, ho!  Now I comprehend you,” said the man, with a sarcastic curl of his lip.  “I was recommended to you as a preacher, and one who would deal fairly with me.  I asked you a plain question, and you purposely misled me in your answer, to the end that you might get my corn at less than the market value.  You have cheated me out of nearly two dollars.  Much good may it do you!”

And saying this, he turned on his heel and left the store.  Mr. Adkin was, of course, no little disturbed.  The charge of dishonesty in dealing at first aroused his indignation; but as he grew calmer and thought over the affair, his conscience troubled him.  As a Christian man, and especially as a Christian minister, he could not reconcile his dealing with strict gospel requirements.  The more he reflected, the more closely he brought his conduct to the standard of Christian principles, the less was he satisfied with himself.  The final result was, a determination to go to the man on the next morning, and pay him the balance due him on the market price of his corn.  But, when he sought for him, he was not to be found, having gone back to his home, a few miles from the village.

On the next day he sent for a bill, which had been standing a good while.  His clerk brought back some impertinent and altogether unsatisfactory answer.

“Did Mr. Giles say that?” he asked, his eyes flashing indignantly.

“His exact words,” replied the clerk.

“Very well.  I’ll not send to him again,” said Mr. Adkin.  “He thinks, because I am a preacher, that he can treat me as he pleases, but I’ll let him know that being a preacher doesn’t make me any the less a man, nor any the less inclined to protect myself.”

So Mr. Giles was served with a summons, to answer for debt, before the week was out.

On the day following, a certain lady, a member of the congregation in Mayberry to which he preached, whenever, from sickness or other causes, the regular minister was absent, came into Mr. Adkin’s store.  Her manner was considerably excited.

“There’s a mistake in your bill, Mr. Adkin,” said she, in rather a sharp tone of voice.

“If so, Mrs. Smith, the remedy is a very simple one,” replied Mr. Adkin.  Her manner had disturbed him, yet he concealed the disturbance under a forced suavity of manner.  “Where does the mistake lie?”