“We should want him to go to school winters. He's a pretty good scholar already. His father was a larned man, and used to teach him before he died. If he had lived, I reckon Herbert would certainly have gone to college.”
“I'll agree to send him to school in the winter for the next two years,” said Holden, “and will give him board and clothes, and when he's twenty-one a freedom suit, and a hundred dollars. Will that do?”
“I don't know but that's reasonable,” said Captain Ross, slowly. “The boy's a bit high-spirited, but if you manage him right, I guess you'll like him.”
“I'll manage him!” thought Abner Holden. “Can I take him with me to-morrow?” he asked. “I don't come this way very often.”
“Well, I guess that can be arranged. We'll go over to Dr. Kent's after dinner, and see if they can get him ready.”
“In the meantime,” said Holden, afraid that the prize might slip through his fingers, “suppose we make out the papers. I suppose you have full authority in the matter.”
Captain Ross had no objection, and thus poor Herbert was unconsciously delivered over to the tender mercies of a man who had very little love for him.