"Then I'll send word to have a place laid for you at our table. You know some of my friends, I think."
"Humph! Yes, I do, and I can't say I altogether approve of 'em, Nephew Richard. They spend too much money."
"Well I guess they've got plenty to spend," said Dick, for Kentfield Academy was attended by the sons of many rich men, though it was in no sense a snobbish institution.
"Yes," went on Uncle Ezra, with a grim chuckle, "I came here to meet a young man, and I met him. I came to teach him a lesson, and I taught it. I guess Mr. Frank Wardell won't be so high and mighty after this. I cleaned him out—and it was all done in a regular way, too. I cleaned him out."
"Ruined him, you mean, Uncle Ezra?"
"Well, he accused me of that, but it wa'n't my fault. He brought it on himself, and he can start over again. He's young yet."
"But what will become of him, Uncle Ezra, if he hasn't any money?"
"I don't know, and he didn't either by the way he rushed off after I got through with him," and the old man chuckled. "But I reckon he can go to work like the rest of us. I offered him a place in my woolen mill at Dankville. I said I could pay him five dollars a week to start, though I know he wouldn't be wuth it. But he might learn the trade."