Part 47 (1/2)
”A young man to see you, Mr. Davis,” said Bridget, entering the breakfast-room.
”Who is it?”
”I think it's young Robert Rushton, but he's much grown entirely.”
”That boy home again!” exclaimed the superintendent, in displeased surprise. ”Well, you may ask him into the next room.”
”Good-morning, Mr. Davis,” said Robert, as the superintendent entered.
”Good-morning. When did you get home?” was the cold reply.
”Last evening.”
”Where have you been?”
”To Calcutta.”
”On a fool's errand.”
”I felt it my duty to search for my father.”
”I could have told you beforehand you would not succeed. Did you go as a sailor?”
”No.”
”Where did you raise money to pay your expenses?”
”I found friends who helped me.”
”It is a poor policy for a boy to live on charity.”
”I never intend to do it,” said Robert, firmly. ”But I would rather do it than live on money that did not belong to me.”
”What do you mean by that, sir?” said the superintendent, suspiciously.
”It was a general remark,” said Robert.
”May I ask what is your motive in calling upon me?” asked Mr. Davis. ”I suppose you have some object.”
”I have, and I think you can guess it.”
”I am not good at guessing,” said Davis, haughtily.
”Then I will not put you to that trouble. You remember, before I sailed for Calcutta, I called here and asked you to restore the sum of five thousand dollars deposited with you by my father?”
”I remember it, and at the time I stigmatized the claim as a fraudulent one. No such sum was ever deposited with me by your father.”
”How can you say that, when my father expressly stated it in the letter, written by him, from the boat in which he was drifting about on the ocean?”