“Do you know how much it’s going to cost me, sir?”
“Search me!”
“Two hundred and fifty dollars, sir.”
“You’re kidding!”
“That will do, sir, for that kind of language in hearing of our family dead!”
“Excuse me, gramp—I forgot myself!” Hal apologized, feigning contrition. “You don’t mean to tell me McLaughlin has the nerve to ask that much—and can collect it?”
“He asked five hundred, but Dr. Filhiol’s help reduced the claim. I’ve agreed to pay. That’s a hard blow to me, Hal, but there’s far worse. I got a letter from the college this morning that carried away all canvas. It brought me heavy, bad news, Hal!”
“I thought so,” said Hal moodily, his eyes fixed on the close-trimmed grass. “It was bound to come! I’m fired from college!”
“And yet you went gallivanting off with Laura, and never even reported it to me!”