CHAPTER V.
TODE'S AMBITION.
R. HASTINGS' elegant carriage was drawn up at a safe distance from the puffing iron animal who had just screeched his way into the depot. The coachman on the box managed with dextrous hand the two black horses who seemed disposed to resent the coming of their puffing rival, while with his hand resting on the knob of the carriage door, looking right and left for somebody, and finally springing forward to welcome his father, was Master Pliny Hastings, older by fourteen years than when that dinner party was given in honor of his birthday.
"Tumble up there with the driver," was Mr. Hastings' direction to Tode, who stood and looked with open-eyed delight on carriage, horses, driver, everything, while father and son exchanged greeting.
Pliny did wait until the carriage door was closed before he burst forth with:
"Father, where on earth did you pick up that bundle of rags, and what did you bring him home for?"
"He brought me, I believe," answered Mr. Hastings, laughing at the droll remembrance. "At least I think you'll find that's his version of the matter."
"What are you going to do with him?"
"More than I know. I'm entirely at his disposal."