"Jasper never will thank you in the world—never!" exclaimed Dick, cramming his irritated hands deeper in their pockets, and turning on his father.
"You see," said his father, nodding easily.
"And you see, papa," cried Dick, turning hastily in front of him, looking so exactly like his father that Mrs. Whitney forgot to chide, in admiring them both.
"And I think it's too bad," went on Dick. "Everybody pitches into Jasper, and wants him to do things; and Grandpapa is always picking at him. I'd—I'd fight—sometimes," he added.
"Softly—softly there, my boy," said Mr. Whitney; "you'll have plenty of practice for all your fighting powers by and by; a fourteen-year-old chap doesn't know everything."
"Well, I know one thing," declared Dick, more positively, "Grandpapa has always been meddling with Jasper, and you know it, papa."
"That's because he expects great things from Jasper, and that he will hold up the King name; we all do," replied his father.
Dick turned on an impatient heel. "And so he would have done, if you'd let him be a publisher," he declared.
His father laughed again, and leaned out of his chair to pinch his son's ear, but Dick, resenting this indignity, retreated to a safe position, declaring, "And I'm going to be one when I'm through college—so!"
[Illustration: "I THINK IT WAS A MEAN SHAME' BEGAN DICK WRATHFULLY.]