“Any objections to telling what they say?” asked Ned.
“None whatever. Read it for yourself, and read it aloud, so that I may be sure I have made no mistake.”
Ned took the letter and read as follows:—
“My Dear Boy:—I learn that you have gone to Texas, to visit Ned Ackerman. I am sorry you thought it best to leave us without saying good-by, for if we had known that you were resolved to go, we should have given you all the aid in our power. I am sorry, too, that you went when you did, for we had anticipated much pleasure in your company during our summer’s visit to the trout streams of the Adirondacks. If you think you would like to come home when your visit is ended, I will send you the necessary funds. I do not suppose Mr. Ackerman will care to pay your expenses both ways. Your mother and I would be glad to hear from you as often as you may feel in the humor to write. I have paid all your debts.”
Ned was very much astonished, and went over the letter twice, to make sure that he had read it aright.
“What do you think of it?” demanded Gus.
“It is cool, that’s a fact,” answered Ned, who did not know what else to say; “very cool!”
“It’s—it’s impudent!” exclaimed Gus, angrily; “downright insulting! Now, isn’t he a pretty father for a fellow to have!” he added, snatching the letter from Ned’s hand. “Just listen to this: ‘If we had known that you were resolved to go, we should have given you all the aid in our power;’ and ‘if you think you would like to come home when your visit is ended!’ He might as well say that if I don’t want to return, I can stay away and welcome!”
“It seems that the rest of them are going to the Adirondacks,” said Ned. “You know you always wanted to go there.”