"Humph!" James Talbot was on the point of saying that he did not believe the statement, but cut himself short. If he angered his wife now he might have trouble in getting the five or ten thousand dollars she had said she would loan him. "The young man belonged to that theatrical company we went to see," continued Mrs. Talbot. "He knew Robert and so he thought he would call here and see me." "What did he have to say about the boy?" "He said Robert had been doing very well, but a fire burnt out the office in which he was employed." "And what is the boy doing now?" "Nothing, just at present." "He won't find it easy to get another opening." "Mr. Palmer said Robert might go up to Michigan in a few days. He had to do something for a man interested in some timber lands in the upper part of that State." "Humph! I shouldn't wonder if the boy came home soon. He'll get tired of roughing it." "Robert has a stout heart, Mr. Talbot, and I doubt if he ever comes home so long as you are here." And with these words Mrs. Talbot arose and swept from the dining room, hardly having touched a mouthful of the food Jane had taken so much pains to prepare. James Talbot finished his meal in silence, and ate as heartily as ever, for seldom did anything interfere with his appetite. From the kitchen Jane eyed him in a manner which was anything but agreeable. "The old gorilla," she said to herself, as she rattled the pans angrily. "He ought to be thrown out of the house. If it wasn't for the poor mistress, sure and I wouldn't stay another minute. I wish the victuals would choke him." And then she vowed that the next time she fixed the dessert she would make Mr. Talbot's portion so bad that he could not eat it. CHAPTER XXVI. ROBERT SPEAKS HIS MIND. Robert waited for two days for a letter from Dick Marden. In the meantime he went down to the police station twice to learn if anything had been found out about Jim Huskin. "We telegraphed to Muskegon and several other points," said the officer in charge. "But so far no one has seen the rascal." In the evening mail of the second day came two letters for the boy, both of which he perused with great interest. The first was from his mother, telling of the meeting with Livingston Palmer, and of what the would-be actor had told her. "I am glad to hear that you have not suffered so far, Robert," she wrote. "But I am afraid that the fire may prove an unexpected set-back for you, and so I enclose twenty dollars, which may come in useful. So far I have received no letter from you, although Mr. Palmer says you have written. When you write again send it in care of the postmaster, and mark it for personal delivery only. Then I am sure Mr. Blarcomb will give it to me and to nobody else." It may be imagined that Robert was indignant.