“Excuse me, Mr. Howard,” said General Wall, “but I recognize this as an important business letter. This is my son, as you doubtless know.”
“Good-evening,” said Walter, politely, offering his hand.
John took the proffered hand coldly, just touching it, and muttering “Good-evening” in a not very gracious manner.
“I foresee that he won’t prove a very agreeable scholar,” thought Walter.
At this moment a knock was heard at the door.
“That must be Squire Griffiths,” said General Wall. “John, you may go to the door and let him in.”
CHAPTER VIII
THE SCHOOL TRUSTEE.
Squire Griffiths was a small man, with stiff gray hair, which he usually brushed in such a manner that it stood up straight in front, forming a palisade, so to speak. It might have been to increase his apparent height, or again it might have been regarded as adding to the dignity of his presence, for the squire had by no means a contemptible opinion of himself.
“Good-evening, Squire Griffiths,” said General Wall, advancing to meet him. “This is Mr. Howard, the young man whom Mr. Barclay has recommended to fill his place.”