"He's learning some of its good points," I declared.
"There was some talk of having Albert there, just before they went off to the Yellowstone." He frowned. "Well, this can't go on so many more years, now."
I did not quite get Raymond's attitude. He did not want the boy with him at home. He did not want to meet any extra expenses—and Mrs. McComas was assuredly paying Albert's way through mid-summer, as well as eternally buying him clothes. I think that what Raymond wanted—and wanted but rather weakly—was his own will, whether there was any advantage in it or not, and wanted that will without payments, charges, costs.
I disliked his grudging way, or rather, his balking way, as regarded a recognition of the liberality of his former wife's husband—for that was what it came to.
I returned his prospectus. "I'll look this up. How about that company in Montana?" I continued.
"They've passed a dividend. I was counting on something from that quarter."
"And how about the factory in Iowa?"
"That will bring me something next year."
"Well," I said, doubling back to the matter that had brought him in, "I'll inquire about this and let you know."
In the course of a few days I called on McComas. Others were calling. Others were always calling. If I wanted to see him I should have to wait. I had expected to wait. I waited.