CHAPTER I.
FRANK AND BEN.
"Is your mother at home, Frank?" asked a soft voice.
Frank Hunter was stretched on the lawn in a careless posture, but looked up quickly as the question fell upon his ear. A man of middle height and middle age was looking at him from the other side of the gate.
Frank rose from his grassy couch and answered coldly:
"Yes, sir; I believe so. I will go in and see."
"Oh, don't trouble yourself, my young friend," said Mr. Craven, opening the gate and advancing toward the door with a brisk step. "I will ring the bell; I want to see your mother on a little business."
"Seems to me he has a good deal of business with mother," Frank said to himself. "There's something about the man I don't like, though he always treats me well enough. Perhaps it's his looks."
"How are you, Frank?"