“Perhaps you had better consult your father. I don’t want you to act blindly on my advice. He may not think it best for you to do as I say.”
“I know he won’t; and for that reason I shall not say anything to him. I’m not going to say anything against my father; but I know what’s what.”
“But you may endanger his interests in the steamer,” I suggested.
“No; the directors can’t do anything without his approval. There is no danger. Besides, my father is as cross as a bear lately. The railroad on the other side is beating us every day. He has been quarreling with the captain and engineer for a week.”
“Is it their fault that the boat is beaten?” I inquired.
“Father thinks it is, in part. The engineer won’t drive the boat, and the captain is a slow coach.”
Waddie had scarcely made his explanation before the library door opened, and Colonel Wimpleton bolted into the room. He appeared to be much excited, threw down his hat, and seemed to be disposed to smash things. He did not see me at first; but when he discovered my presence he came up to me, and, to my great astonishment, offered me his hand. He glanced curiously at Waddie, as he realized the fact that his son was on good terms with me.
“I’m glad to see you, Wolf,” said he, as he grasped my hand. “I suppose you thought I had forgotten you; but I have not. A Wimpleton never forgets a friendly act, nor forgives a malicious one. What’s up, Waddie?” he continued, as he turned to his son.
“Wolf and I are the best friends in the world, father,” replied Waddie. “Ain’t we, Wolf?”
“That’s so, just now; and I hope it will always continue,” I replied.