"I guess you forget," sneered Bert cunningly that you are responsible for me, and that you will have to pay my bills."
"Not a penny of them," retorted the banker sternly. "It is you who forget that you reached the age of twenty-one just three days ago. You are your own master, sir—-and your own provider! Now, go—-and never again let any of your family hear from the scoundrel who has disgraced us all."
Vainly Bert opened his mouth, trying to speak. The words would not come. His father again advancing threateningly, Bert edged towards the door.
"This looks like your fun, as it is your work, Dick Prescott!" snarled the wretch. "Wait! If it takes me ten years I'll make you suffer for this!"
Crash! Mr. Dodge had again raised his cane to strike the young man. But Bert had pulled open the door, closing it after him as he fled, and only the plate-glass panel stopped the fall of the cane.
"I'll pay for the damage done to your door Griffin," promised the banker.
"Don't worry about that, sir," nodded the attorney.
"I feel that we've been here long enough, gentlemen," broke in Cadet Prescott, as he and Greg rose. "Mr. Dodge, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am that this scene was necessary."
"I feel sure of your sympathy. Prescott, and of yours, too, Holmes. Thank you both," replied the banker. "You are both fine, manly young fellows. I wish I had been favored with a son like either of you. Now, I have no son!"
Dick and Greg got away as unobtrusively as they could.