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."
