“Oh, but I’m sure you are! Even if—if Harold doesn’t get on very fast, it is a great relief to me to know that for two hours a day at least he is in good care and not—not running around with those horrid bell-boys. I’m sure that’s worth every penny of the money!”
“Not to me, ma’am. I mean I wouldn’t be satisfied to go on with things as they are now. I wish you’d try my way, Mrs. Townsend. All I’d want you to do would be just to tell Harold that he is to do absolutely as I tell him to, and that there is no use in his appealing to you.”
“We—ell, if you’re quite certain it won’t break his spirit or—or anything like that,” agreed Mrs. Townsend doubtfully. “I do want him to get on, Mr. Lovering. If only he had half the studiousness that Loring has!”
“He can study very well when he wants to,” replied Dick dryly. “And I’m pretty sure I can make him want to if you will just stand back of me, Mrs. Townsend.”
“I will, really and truly,” she said. “Thank you so much, Mr. Lovering. I—I’ll speak to Harold this evening, and——”
“Couldn’t you speak to him now just as well, please?”
“Now? Why, I suppose so. If you wish. Perhaps I’d better, and get it over with.” Mrs. Townsend sighed deeply. “Will you send him to me, Mr. Lovering?”
“Yes’m, if I can find him,” answered Dick. “I’m afraid, though, he’s gone off somewhere. I’ll look him up, Mrs. Townsend. Thank you very much for—for helping me.”
Harold was not in his room where Dick had left him, and inquiry around the corridor of the hotel at first failed to elicit any information. Ultimately, however, Dick found a boy who had seen Harold walking down the beach about a half hour before and Dick set off in the indicated direction toward the distant point of rocks that jutted out into the sea.