Tony Denton had now the excuse he sought for calling upon Prince Duncan.  Ostensibly, his errand related to the debt which Randolph had incurred at his saloon, but really he had something more important to speak of.  It may be remarked that Squire Duncan, who had a high idea of his own personal importance, looked upon Denton as a low and insignificant person, and never noticed him when they met casually in the street.  It is difficult to play the part of an aristocrat in a country village, but that is the role which Prince Duncan assumed.  Had he been a prince in reality, as he was by name, he could not have borne himself more loftily when he came face to face with those whom he considered his inferiors.

When, in answer to the bell, the servant at Squire Duncan’s found Tony Denton standing on the doorstep, she looked at him in surprise.

“Is the squire at home?” asked the saloon keeper.

“I believe so,” said the girl, doubtfully.

“I would like to see him.  Say Mr. Denton wishes to see him on important business.”

The message was delivered.

“Mr. Denton!” repeated the squire, in surprise.  “Is it Tony Denton?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What can he wish to see me about?”

“He says it’s business of importance, sir.”

“Well, bring him in.”

Prince Duncan assumed his most important attitude and bearing when his visitor entered his presence.

“Mr.—­ahem!—­Denton, I believe?” he said, as if he found difficulty in recognizing Tony.

“The same.”

“I am—­ahem!—­surprised to hear that you have any business with me.”

“Yet so it is, Squire Duncan,” said Tony, not perceptibly overawed by the squire’s grand manner.

“Elucidate it!” said Prince Duncan, stiffly.

“You may not be aware, Squire Duncan, that your son Randolph has for some time frequented my billiard saloon and has run up a sum of twenty-seven dollars.”

“I was certainly not aware of it.  Had I been, I should have forbidden his going there.  It is no proper place for my son to frequent.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.  It’s respectable enough, I guess.  At any rate, he seemed to like it, and at his request, for he was not always provided with money, I trusted him till his bill comes to twenty-seven dollars—­”

“You surely don’t expect me to pay it!” said the squire, coldly.  “He is a minor, as you very well know, and when you trusted him you knew you couldn’t legally collect your claim.”

“Well, squire, I thought I’d take my chances,” said Tony, carelessly.  “I didn’t think you’d be willing to have him owing bills around the village.  You’re a gentleman, and I was sure you’d settle the debt.”

“Then, sir, you made a very great mistake.  Such bills as that I do not feel called upon to pay.  Was it all incurred for billiards?”

“No; a part of it was for drinks.”