He did
not quite take the boy's words in; then, as he grasped the idea that
Sam was agreeing to the suggestion which he had himself made more than
a month before, he burst out furiously. "Why the devil didn't you say
so, _yesterday?_ Why did you let me--you young jackass!"
Sam looked at him in faint surprise. Then he proceeded to explain
himself: "Of course, father won't give me any money. And I haven't got
any myself--except about twelve dollars. And you were kind enough,
sir, to say that you would help me to go and see if I could get a
publisher for the drama. I would like to go to-morrow, if you please."
"Go?" said Benjamin Wright, scowling and chewing orange-skin rapidly,
"the sooner the better! I'm glad to get rid of you. But, confound you!
why didn't you tell me so yesterday? Then I needn't have--Well, how
much money do you want? Have you told your--your mother that you are
going? Come on up to the house, and I'll give you a check. But why
didn't you make up your mind to this yesterday?" Snarling and
snapping, and then falling into silence, he began to trudge up the
driveway to his old house.
Sam said briefly that he didn't know how much money he wanted, and
that he had not as yet told his family of his purpose. "I'll tell
mother to-night," he said. Then he, too, was silent, his young step
falling in with his grandfather's shuffling gait.
When Mr.
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