Dr. Crawford stopped short, and eyed Gilbert attentively.
"I don't know you," he said, in a querulous tone.
"I am a schoolmate of your son, Carl.
My name is Gilbert Vance."
"If you have come to see my son you will
be disappointed. He has treated me in a
shameful manner. He left home yesterday
morning, and I don't know where he is."
"I can tell you, sir. He is staying--for a
day or two--at my father's house."
"Where is that?" asked Dr. Crawford, his
manner showing that he was confused.
"In Warren, thirteen miles from here."
"I know the town. What induced him to
go to your house? Have you encouraged him
to leave home?" inquired Dr. Crawford, with
a look of displeasure.
"No, sir. It was only by chance that I met
him a mile from our home. I induced him to
stay overnight."
"Did you bring me any message from him?"
"No, sir, except that he is going to strike
out for himself, as he thinks his home an
unhappy one."
"That is his own fault. He has had enough
to eat and enough to wear. He has had as
comfortable a home as yourself."
"I don't doubt that, but he complains that
his stepmother is continually finding fault
with him, and scolding him."
"He provokes her to do it. He is a headstrong,
obstinate boy."
"He never had that reputation at school, sir.
We all liked him."
"I suppose you mean to imply that I am in
fault?" said the doctor, warmly.
"I don't think you know how badly Mrs.
Crawford treats Carl, sir."
"Of course, of course. That is always said
of a stepmother."
"Not always, sir. I have a stepmother
myself, and no own mother could treat me better."
"You are probably a better boy."
"I can't accept the compliment. I hope
you'll excuse me saying it, Dr. Crawford, but
if my stepmother treated me as Carl says Mrs.
Crawford treats him I wouldn't stay in the
house another day."
"Really, this is very annoying," said Dr.
Crawford, irritably. "Have you come here
from Warren to say this?"
"No, sir, not entirely."
"Perhaps Carl wants me to receive him back.
I will do so if he promises to obey his stepmother."
"That he won't do, I am sure."
"Then what is the object of your visit?"
"To say that Carl wants and intends to earn
his own living. But it is hard for a boy of
his age, who has never worked, to earn enough
at first to pay for his board and clothes. He
asks, or, rather, I ask for him, that you will
allow him a small sum, say three or four
dollars a week, which is considerably less than
he must cost you at home, for a time until he
gets on his feet."
"I don't know," said Dr. Crawford, in a
vacillating tone. "I don't think Mrs. Crawford
would approve this."
"It seems to me you are the one to decide,
as Carl is your own son. Peter must cost you
a good deal more."
"Do you know Peter?"
"I have met him," answered Gilbert, with
a slight smile.
"I don't know what to say. You may be right.
Peter does cost me more."
"And Carl is entitled to be treated as well as he."
"I think I ought to speak to Mrs. Crawford
about it. And, by the way, I nearly forgot
to say that she charges Carl with taking money
from her bureau drawer before he went away.
It was a large sum, too--twenty-five dollars."
"That is false!" exclaimed Gilbert,
indignantly. "I am surprised that you should
believe such a thing of your own son."
"Mrs. Crawford says she has proof," said
the doctor, hesitating.
"Then what has he done with the money?
I know that he has but thirty-seven cents with
him at this time, and he only left home
yesterday. If the money has really been taken,
I think I know who took it."
"Who?"
"Peter Cook. He looks mean enough for anything."
"What right have you to speak so of Peter?"
"Because I caught him stoning a cat this
morning. He would have killed the poor
thing if I had not interfered. I consider that
worse than taking money."
"I--I don't know what to say. I can't agree
to anything till I have spoken with Mrs. Crawford.
Did you say that Carl had but thirty
seven cents?"
"Yes, sir; I presume you don't want him to starve?"
"No, of course not. He is my son, though
he has behaved badly. Here, give him that!"
and Dr. Crawford drew a ten-dollar bill from
his wallet, and handed it to Gilbert
"Thank you, sir. This money will be very
useful. Besides, it will show Carl that his
father is not wholly indifferent to him."
"Of course not. Who says that I am a bad
father?" asked Dr. Crawford, peevishly.
"I don't think, sir, there would be any
difficulty between you and Carl if you had not
married again."
"Carl has no right to vex Mrs. Crawford.
Besides, he can't agree with Peter."
"Is that his fault or Peter's?" asked Gilbert,
significantly.
"I am not acquainted with the circumstances,
but Mrs. Crawford says that Carl is
always bullying Peter."
"He never bullied anyone at school."
"Is there anything, else you want?"
"Yes, sir; Carl only took away a little
underclothing in a gripsack. He would like his
woolen clothes put in his trunk, and to have
it sent----"
"Where?"
"Perhaps it had better be sent to my house.
There are one or two things in his room also
that he asked me to get."
"Why didn't he come himself?"
"Because he thought it would be unpleasant
for him to meet Mrs. Crawford. They would
be sure to quarrel."
"Well, perhaps he is right," said Dr.
Crawford, with an air of relief. "About the
allowance, I shall have to consult my wife. Will
you come with me to the house?"
"Yes, sir; I should like to have the matter
settled to-day, so that Carl will know what
to depend upon."
Gilbert rather dreaded the interview he was
likely to have with Mrs. Crawford; but he was
acting for Carl, and his feelings of friendship
were strong.
So he walked beside Dr. Crawford till they
reached the tasteful dwelling occupied as a
residence by Carl and his father.
"How happy Carl could he here, if he had
a stepmother like mine," Gilbert thought.
They went up to the front door, which was
opened for them by a servant.
"Jane, is Mrs. Crawford in?" asked the doctor.
"No, sir; not just now. She went to the
village to do some shopping."
"Is Peter in?"
"No, sir."
"Then you will have to wait till they return."
"Can't I go up to Carl's room and be packing
his things?"
"Yes, I think you may. I don't think Mrs.
Crawford would object."
"Good heavens! Hasn't the man a mind of
his own?" thought Gilbert.
"Jane, you may show this young gentleman
up to Master Carl's room, and give him the
key of his trunk. He is going to pack his
clothes."
"When is Master Carl coming back?" asked Jane.
"I--I don't know. I think he will be away
for a time."
"I wish it was Peter instead of him," said
Jane, in a low voice, only audible to Gilbert.
She showed Gilbert the way upstairs, while
the doctor went to his study.
"Are you a friend of Master Carl's?" asked
Jane, as soon as they were alone.
"Yes, Jane."
"And where is he?"
"At my house."
"Is he goin' to stay there?"
"For a short time. He wants to go out into
the world and make his own living."
"And no wonder--poor boy! It's hard times
he had here."
"Didn't Mrs. Crawford treat him well?"
asked Gilbert, with curiosity
"Is it trate him well? She was a-jawin' an'
a-jawin' him from mornin' till night. Ugh,
but she's an ugly cr'atur'!"
"How about Peter?"
"He's just as bad--the m'anest bye I iver
set eyes on. It would do me good to see him
flogged."
She chatted a little longer with Gilbert,
helping him to find Carl's clothes, when suddenly
a shrill voice was heard calling her from below.
"Shure, it's the madam!" said Jane, shrugging
her shoulders. "I expect she's in a temper;"
and she rose from her knees and hurried downstairs.