"What sort of a man is he?" asked Roland, who was endowed with a full share of curiosity.
"His character was bad," answered his father briefly. "He was discharged from his place for dishonesty. I knew very little of him."
"Then he's good company for Oliver," said Roland, shrugging his shoulders. "They are well matched. I'll tell Frank Dudley what sort of a guardian his dear friend has chosen."
"I desire you will do nothing of the kind," said his father hastily.
"Why not?" asked Roland, in surprise.
"I don't care to have it known that I ever heard of the man. Frank Dudley might write to Oliver what I have said, and then it would get to the ears of this man Bundy. I have nothing against him, remember. In fact I am grateful to him for taking the boy off my hands. If we are wise, we shall say nothing to separate them."
"I see," said Roland. "I guessyou're right, father. I'd like to tell Frank, but I won't."
"How strange things turn out in this world!" said Kenyon to himself, when Roland had left him. "Of all men in the world Oliver has drifted into the care of the man who hates me most. It is fortunate that I have changed my name. He will never suspect that the step-father of the boy he is befriending is the man he once knew as—Rupert Jones."