"Craddock is in serious trouble," said Mr. Barholm to his wife and daughter.
"'Owd Sammy' in trouble," said Anice. "How is that, papa?"
The Reverend Harold looked at once concerned and annoyed. In truth he had cause for irritation. The laurels he had intended to win through Sammy Craddock were farther from being won to-day than they had ever been. He was beginning to feel a dim, scarcely developed, but sore conviction, that they were not laurels for his particular wearing.
"It is that bank failure at Illsbery," he answered. "You have heard of it, I dare say. There has been a complete crash, and Cradclock's small savings being deposited there, he has lost everything he depended upon to support him in his old age. It is a hard business."
"Have you been to see Craddock?" Mrs. Barholm asked.
"Oh! yes," was the answer, and the irritation became even more apparent than before. "I went as soon as I heard it, last night indeed; but it was of no use. I had better have stayed away. I don't seem to make much progress with Craddock, somehow or other. He is such a cross-grained, contradictory old fellow, I hardly know