"Sort of queer—the fellow making a break on you this way," suggested Bob.
"It mystifies me," confessed Frank.
"You don't suppose he could be one of your old apple-corer customers, do you?" inquired Bob.
"Hardly. He acted like a man having some solid grievance. Here's the marshal coming. He may have some inkling of the fellow's motive."
The marshal looked quite grave as he came down the walk and beckoned Frank out of the office.
"That man's name is Halsey," he said "and he comes from Westboro. Newton, he makes some pretty serious charges against you. Says he has been badly swindled."
"Not by me," declared Frank. "There must be some mistake."
"He says not. He claims he sent some money to you and got a worthless article in return."
"Let me see the man at once," urged Frank. "His charge is utterly unfounded. I am not in business to defraud people, but to make regular customers of them."
"We all know that, Newton," said the marshal in a kindly tone.
