"Yes, Roland, but——"
"Then it's a mean shame. Anyone would think he was your son, and not I."
"You don't understand, Roland. I have an object in view."
"What is it?" asked Roland, his curiosity overcoming his anger.
"It will be better for you in the end, Roland. You don't like Oliver, do you?"
"No. I hate him."
"You wouldn't mind if he didn't come back, would you?"
"Is that what you mean, father?" asked Roland, pricking up his ears.
"Yes. I am going to place him in a cheap boarding-school where he will be ruled with a rod of iron. Of course Oliver doesn't understand that. He thinks only that he is going to take a little trip to New York. Your presence would interfere with my plans, don't you see?"
"That's good," chuckled Roland with malicious merriment. "Do they flog at the school he's going to?"