And it was one that aroused Uncle John from the stupor into which he had fallen, and showed him the necessity of prompt and decisive action. He jumped from his chair and began walking up and down the room.
"Can George turn you out of your position and have somebody appointed in your place?" continued Ned.
"Of course he can. I hoped to keep him in ignorance concerning that fact, but Gilbert, or some other busy-body, has been posting him."
"Then you had better make things straight with him and be quick about it," said Ned, growing frightened again. "If you don't, he'll oust you sure, and then what will become of me—of both of us? You'll have to go back to your desk again, and I'll have to pick up my yard-stick. Father, I never could endure that sort of life again. You must make it up with him?"
Uncle John wrung his hands and groaned. He was terribly agitated, and it was not to be wondered at. He could not have told which he stood the more in fear of—punishment at the hands of the angry settlers, who would be sure, sooner or later, to learn all about his dealings with his nephew, or the loss of the management of his brother's property. He could not bear to think of either.
"Where are you going?" inquired Ned, as his father suddenly turned toward the door and laid his hand upon the knob.
"I am going to see George," was the reply. "It would never do to let him go back home feeling as he does now, for you and I would never dare to show our faces there again. I am going to try to reason with him first, and if that has no effect, I shall use my authority."
"That's the way to talk," exclaimed Ned, gleefully. "Pound him within an inch of his life, and if you want any help, call for me. I will leave the door open so that I can hear you."
Ned had been on the very point of volunteering to go with his father, in order to back him up during the coming interview, and holding himself in readiness to assist him as circumstances might require; but the fear that the interview might end in a fight, checked the words that arose to his lips. George's fists were pretty large and heavy, and a good fair blow from one of them would have played sad havoc with the little sense that Ned Ackerman possessed.
"I hardly think that extreme measures will be called for," said Uncle John, "but if they are, I shall use them. Stay here until I return."