Two days afterward the old man came to Shelby, stipulating that his traveling expenses should be paid by Craven. He inquired around cautiously, and was convinced that the story was correct. Finally he agreed to lend the money, but drove a harder bargain than first proposed—exacting six hundred dollars in return for his loan of three hundred and fifty. It was outrageous, of course, but he knew how important it was to Mr. Craven, and that he must consent.
Frank, according to his determination, said not a word further to his mother about the marriage. He avoided mentioning Mr. Craven's name even. But an incident about this time, though Frank was quite innocent in the matter, served to increase Mr. Craven's dislike for him.
He had spent the evening with Mrs. Hunter, and was about to leave the house when a watch-dog, which Frank had just purchased, sprang upon him, and, seizing him by the coat-tails, shook him fiercely.
Mr. Craven disliked dogs, and was thoroughly frightened. He gave a loud shriek, and tried to escape, but the dog held on grimly.
"Help, help!" he shrieked, at the top of his voice.
Frank heard the cry from the house, and ran out.
At this juncture he managed to break away from the dog, and made a rush for the garden wall.
"Down, Pompey! Ain't you ashamed of yourself?" said Frank, sternly, seizing the dog by the collar.
"I am very sorry, Mr. Craven," he added.