“We didn’t get along at all. He wanted to boss me, and ma and I wouldn’t have it.” “So the upshot was that he had to leave the house and you remained?” “Yes, that’s the way of it,” said Peter, laughing. “And Carl was actually sent out to earn his own living without help of any kind from his father?” “Yes.” “What is he doing?” asked Ashcroft, in some excitement. “Good heavens! he may have suffered from hunger.” “Are you a friend of his?” asked Peter, sharply. “I am a friend of anyone who requires a friend.” “Carl is getting along well enough. He is at work in some factory in Milford, and gets a living.” “Hasn’t he been back since he first left home?” “No.” “How long ago is that?” “Oh, ‘bout a year,” answered Peter, carelessly. “How is Dr. Crawford? Is he in good health?” “He ain’t very well. Ma told me the other day she didn’t think he would live long. She got him to make a will the other day.” “Why, this seems to be a conspiracy!” thought Ashcroft. “I’d give something to see that will.” “I suppose he will provide for you and your mother handsomely?” “Yes; ma said she was to have control of the property. I guess Carl will have to stand round if he expects any favors.” “It is evident this boy can’t keep a secret,” thought Ashcroft. “All the better for me. I hope I am in time to defeat this woman’s schemes.” “There’s the house,” said Peter, pointing it out. “Do you think Dr. Crawford is at home?” “Oh, yes, he doesn’t go out much. Ma is away this afternoon. She’s at the sewing circle, I think.” “Thank you for serving as my guide,” said Ashcroft. “There’s a little acknowledgment which I hope will be of service to you.” He offered a half dollar to Peter, who accepted it joyfully and was profuse in his thanks. “Now, if you will be kind enough to tell the doctor that an old friend wishes to see him, I shall be still further obliged.” “Just follow me, then,” said Peter, and he led the way into the sitting-room. CHAPTER XXXVIII. Dr. CRAWFORD IS TAKEN TO TASK. After the first greetings, Reuben Ashcroft noticed with pain the fragile look of his friend. “Are you well?” he asked “I am not very strong,” said Dr. Crawford, smiling faintly, “but Mrs. Crawford takes good care of me.” “And Carl, too--he is no doubt a comfort to you?” Dr. Crawford flushed painfully. “Carl has been away from home for a year, he said, with an effort. “That is strange your own son, too! Is there anything unpleasant? You may confide in me, as I am the cousin of Carl’s mother.’ “The fact is, Carl and Mrs. Crawford didn’t hit it off very well.” “And you took sides against your own son, said Ashcroft, indignantly. “I begin to think I was wrong, Reuben. You don’t know how I have missed the boy. “Yet you sent him out into the world without a penny.” “How do you know that?” asked Dr. Crawford quickly.