The three took a last plunge into the cool water, had a quick rub down, and dressed. Then Chub and Billy Mac departed to take a short cut back to town along the river banks, while Merry returned to the house in order to write a letter to his father. On the way, however, he reconsidered. “I think I’ll let it wait till to-night,” he reflected. “I’ll have a talk with Mrs. McQuade first, if I can work it, and see how the idea strikes her.” As he passed the corner of the orchard, and came to the garden patch that stretched below the house, he paused suddenly. A sound of vehement talking drifted down to him, and he recognized the deep voice, with a thrill of alarm. The next moment he made out a horse and buggy standing in front of the house, in the drive. An exclamation of dismay burst from him, for he recognized it at once as the same which he had encountered at the horseshoe bend that morning. “It isn’t possible!” he murmured. “Colonel Carson wouldn’t try such a trick!” He approached the house, and, as he did so, his alarm increased. There was no doubt that the autocrat of Carsonville was present, and that he was extremely angry. As Merriwell sprang to the wide veranda, he clearly heard the vibrant tones. “Yes, that graceless son of yours publicly assaulted my boy in the streets, not half an hour ago, Mrs. McQuade. It’s the last straw, I tell you! First he tries to frighten my horse, then he assaults my son. If it hadn’t been for the spectators, he might have killed the poor fellow. Now, you’ve either got to pay that mortgage or move out.” Merry chuckled at this version of the incident. Then his face became serious. “Billy is a good son,” faltered the voice of Mrs. McQuade. “I’m sure there’s some mistake, Colonel Carson. He’s going to start to work Monday at the store, and we hope to pay you that loan before long.” “You’ll pay up inside of five days,” stormed the angry man. “I’m sick of this fool way of conductin’ business, mind my words! You’ve got till Monday mornin’, then out you go, if you don’t settle.” Merriwell stepped to the door, his eyes snapping. Colonel Carson stood inside, and Mrs. McQuade was helplessly facing him. “I think you’ve made a mistake, sir,” said Chip quietly. Carson swung around. “I was present at the encounter in the street, and I assure you that your son was in no danger. Billy hit him twice, and he lost his nerve and started for home.” Colonel Carson’s face purpled with fury. “So you admit it, hey?” he roared. “You can be mighty thankful, young man, if I don’t have both o’ you arrested for this business! Nice goings on, this is!” “I guess you won’t do any arresting in a hurry,” said Chip calmly. “It wouldn’t make a very nice story to get out about your son. The ‘poor fellow,’ as you call him, was brutally beating little Chub Newton, and Billy stepped in to prevent it, that’s all. If there’s any arresting to be done, it might be the other way around, for your son assaulted Billy first.”