“I hope it will be all right, Wolf,” said my father, anxiously.
“Your boy ain’t to blame, Ralph,” added Christy, the engineer.
“I know he isn’t; but Colonel Wimpleton is the worst man to get along with in the world when Waddie gets into a scrape with other boys. He thinks the little villain is an angel, and if he ever does any mischief he is led away by bad boys. Well, no matter; I am glad this thing takes place to-day instead of last week.”
“Why so, father?” I asked.
“Don’t you know what I am going up to Ucayga for, this morning?”
“No, sir; I haven’t heard.”
“Well, I talked it over long enough with your mother this morning.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“I’ll tell you, Wolf,” replied my father, throwing one leg over the other, and looking particularly well satisfied with himself and all the rest of mankind. “When we first went to Centreport, I bought the place we live on of Colonel Wimpleton. I gave him one thousand down, and a note, secured by mortgage, for two thousand more. I think the place, to-day, is worth four thousand dollars.”
“All of that,” added Christy.