“Have you had any further news from home?” asked Dick, of Dora, a little later.
“I got a letter from mamma yesterday. She says Professor Crabtree called again. But she had the maid go to the door, and she refused to see him.”
“That’s good. Did he say anything to the maid?”
“She says he went away looking very angry and muttering something about making mamma see him. Mamma watched him from an upper window and she wrote that he hung around the garden about half an hour before he went away.”
“The rascal! You had better get Mr. Laning to look into this for you. If he bothers you any more he ought to be locked up.”
“Just what I think. But mamma is too timid to go to the police, or anything like that.”
“I wish I was there when old Crabtree called—I’d give him a piece of my mind!”
“Oh, Dick, maybe he would want to—to—shoot you, or something!”
“No, Josiah Crabtree isn’t that kind. He belongs to the snake-in-the-grass variety of rascals. But perhaps he won’t come again—now that your mother has refused to see him.”
“I wish I could be sure of it,” sighed the girl.