“But it’s something that must be settled. I must know before the game,” the boy persisted.
“All right—fire away,” said the Major resignedly. “I suppose its money.”
“Yes—and no,” replied Larry. “Its a girl.”
“Girl?” roared the Major, leaping from his chair and stalking up and down the floor. “Girl? Confound it, I’ll girl you! Krag said it was a girl and I told him if it was I’d soon knock that sort of foolishness out of your head. The idea—girl? Why, you young scoundrel, you’ve just shed your pinafores and talking of girl! Next thing I hear you’ll be wanting to marry her.”
“I do want to marry her, Uncle Jim,” said the boy earnestly. “Right away.”
“What?”
This time the Major’s astonishment was not pretended. He stopped and stared at Larry as if striving to comprehend.
“Marry?” he cried. “You marry? What have you to offer a wife? What means of support have you? Nothing. You’re dependent on me, sir, and if you talk marriage in the next five years, I’ll cut you off without a penny, without a penny, understand? Don’t talk to me of marriage.”
He had worked himself into a real passion, and resumed his storming up and down the room.
“But you don’t understand, Uncle Jim,” pleaded the boy. “She is in trouble; her family is not treating her well; I am the only one to whom she can turn for help.”