"Sit down and listen to me," he said. "Because I'm a relative of yours and also because I had a great respect for your father, I meant from the beginning to help you along. On the other hand, I've seen young men spoiled by knowing that they had friends ready to give them a lift, and I decided to let you make the best fight you could, for a year or two. That's why I sent you to the flour mill, instead of putting you into something easier; and I may say that I wasn't altogether pleased when you left it."
"I was turned out, sir," Frank corrected him with some color in his face.
Mr. Marston smiled.
"We'll let it go at that. The main thing is that you didn't come back for help. Instead, you made another start for yourself; and you seem to have done well here. According to a newspaper which I've read, you have even distinguished yourself lately." He laughed before he proceeded. "Anyway, you have shown that one could have some confidence in you."
"Thank you, sir."
Mr. Marston raised his hand.
"Let me finish. Before I left Boston I went over your mother's business affairs, and by and by I think she could give you—we'll say a thousand dollars; you have your share of the salvage payment; and Mr. Oliver is willing to lay out some money on his son's account. Well, I'll find the balance—on a mortgage—but you'll have to make the ranch pay, or"—and he smiled—"I'll certainly foreclose and turn you out."
Frank tried to thank him, but he could find very little to say in his excitement. Then Mr. Marston called Harry.
"I understand that you are anxious to take Mr. Webster's ranch with Frank, and would be willing to work it under your father's direction until the youngest of you is twenty-one. Is that correct?"
Harry's face was glowing.