"No, mother; I'm all right. It was terrible cold, and we had a hard time, with plenty of danger thrown in, but I'm all right, and I'm not out of my head. In fact my health is better than ever."
"And you really have all that gold?" repeated Fred's father again.
"Sure. Here are some samples," and Fred pulled out a few gold nuggets that he had taken from his share of the treasure, which had been left in a safe place while he came on ahead.
At the sight of the gold the eyes of the mean landlord sparkled. He looked greedily at the yellow particles.
"Yes, that's the genuine stuff," remarked Mr. Stanley. "Oh, Fred, my son, how glad I am that you succeeded, for I feared you would not!"
"Ahem! I—er—I guess you'd better go back into the house, Mr. Stanley," said the landlord, a sudden change coming into his manner. "I'll have your goods brought right back. I'll send in something for you to eat, too. You need nourishing food, that's what you need. I'll attend to it for you. And if your son wants to invest some of his money I will be glad to offer my advice. Come back into the house and we'll talk it over."
"Talk what over?" asked Fred sharply.
"Why—er—about investing your money. Of course you'll want to invest it."
"Probably," replied the young treasure hunter coolly, "but I think I know where to go for advice, too. I don't believe I'd trust any one who would act as you have done to my relatives when they were in temporary distress."
"Oh—er—I—I didn't mean anything by that," said the man, somewhat confused. "You see I have so much property, and my agents attend to it for me. One of them must have ordered Mr. Stanley dispossessed on his own responsibility. I did not understand the case. I am always disposed to be lenient to my tenants, especially——"