"They are.

You see, when I lost my cattle in the blizzard, I had to sell out or mortgage the place to the hilt, and during the last two years I haven't made the interest.

The loan falls due in August, and they're going to foreclose on me." "Then," said Courthorne, "what is keeping you here when the result of every hour's work you put in will go straight into another man's pocket ?" Winston smiled a little.

"In the first place, I've nowhere else to go, and there's something in the feeling that one has held on to the end.
Besides, until a few days ago I had a vague hope that by working double tides, I might get another crop in.

Somebody might have advanced me a little on it because the mortgage only claims the house and land." Courthorne looked at him curiously.