“I certainly intended to take some of this money to help me along,” answered Arthur, without the least tremor in his tones. “I asked you for it this morning, openly and above board, and you wouldn’t let me have it, saying, as an excuse for your refusal, that you were ‘afraid that the herdsmen would do something to me if I attempted to leave the valley so soon after Bob’s disappearance.’”
“And I tell you so now,” said his father.
“Didn’t I assure you that I was willing to take all the risk?” demanded Arthur.
“And didn’t I tell you, in effect, that if you would only be governed by me and consent to stay here until this thing had time to blow over, it would then be perfectly safe for both of us to go East?” asked his father, in reply. “I am as anxious to see the last of Arizona as you are. I had a long talk with Mr. Jacobs about it yesterday, and decided to employ him to manage the ranch for me, while you and I would go back to Bolton to live. I should have told you about it as soon as I came home, if you had shown any disposition to talk to me.”
“Why don’t you go at once?” growled Arthur.
“I have already given you my reason. I think I ought to stay here for a few months, at least; and Mr. Jacobs thinks so, too.”
“Well, then, won’t you give me some money and let me go?”
“I answered that question yesterday,” said Uncle Bob, in very decided tones. “Have you got any money in that valise? Then put it back where it belongs, and we will go back to bed.”
Knowing that his hopeful son could not be trusted, Uncle Bob took the precaution to see that these instructions were obeyed to the very letter.
He took his stand beside the open valise, and closely watched Arthur, as he took the packages out of it and piled them on the shelf. Then he closed and locked the safe and took possession of the key, telling himself the while that Arthur would never be able to get his hands upon it again.