“What did you mean, about your money?” inquired Mr. Spriggs, turning to his future son-in-law.
“Nothing,” said the young man, evasively.
“It's a secret,” said Mr. Price.
“What about?” persisted Mr. Spriggs, raising his voice.
“It's a little private business between me and Uncle Gussie,” said Mr. Potter, somewhat stiffly.
“You—you haven't been lending him money?” stammered the bricklayer.
“Don't be silly, father,” said Miss Spriggs, sharply. “What good would Alfred's little bit o' money be to Uncle Gussie? If you must know, Alfred is drawing it out for uncle to invest it for him.”
The eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Spriggs and Mr. Price engaged in a triangular duel. The latter spoke first.
“I'm putting it into my business for him,” he said, with a threatening glance, “in Australia.”
“And he didn't want his generosity known,” added Mr. Potter.