“Now is the time for him to make good his boasts that he is going to set me up in business,” said Claude to himself. “Ten to one he will write me to go out there, and that is one thing that I don’t want to do. But then he has money, and I will see what I can do with him after I get out there. I will promise him that if he will give me five thousand dollars I will never bother him again.”
One thing that made Claude so free with his uncle’s money was the conversations he had often had with his father. He had heard that all Western men were reckless with their gains, and he thought perhaps Mr. Preston would be equally so. What were five thousand dollars to him? He could easily get it out of the first cattle he sold. But now his worst fears came to him. Mr. Preston, after holding a consultation with his foreman—educated man as he was, he needed somebody to go to—wrote to Claude, and sent him money to come to Standing Rock Agency. After he got there he would still have a hundred and sixty miles to ride, and, for fear that he might not be able to stand the journey on horseback, Mr. Preston would meet him there with a wagon. Claude did not like the prospect of going out there so far from everybody, but still he packed up his trunk and went, and he found his uncle ready to receive him. Carl, as we said, had been left at home, because his father was anxious to see what sort of a boy—or man, rather, for Claude was nearly seven years older than Carl—he had been so willing to receive into his house.
“I hope you will like him, but I am afraid you won’t,” repeated the foreman. “A man who has lived all his life in a big city ain’t agoing to be contented out here.”
“Oh, I hope he will,” said Carl, somewhat disappointed at the foreman’s view of the matter. “I will give him up everything I’ve got if he will only stay here with me. There are plenty of horses for him to ride, there is a boat on the river, and——”
“That may all be,” said the cowboy, “but when he is in the city he has more than that. Where are the theatres for him to go to, and the balls and sleigh-rides?”
“Why, Claude has not been to any of those things,” said Carl in surprise. “You must remember that his father was poor.”
“Supposing he was. What has this man been doing during all these years? If he had a position when his father died, what was the reason he did not keep it?”
“Blessed if I know,” said Carl, who began to have a faint idea of the way the matter stood.
“I’ll tell you just what’s the matter with Claude,” said the cowboy, getting upon his feet. “He did not have a thing to do when his father was alive; he stayed at home or bummed around some place waiting for his father to give him money; and now, when his father’s left him, he’s afloat and does not know what to do. I tell you, he has come to a bad place. If he waits for your father to give him money he will wait for a long while.”
“You are prejudiced, and I hope that you are mistaken. However, he will soon be here, and I want you to meet him as civilly as you can.”