And thus talking he left the parlor, clapped his silk hat on his head, and dashed from the boarding house. CHAPTER XXVII. MR. TALBOT RECEIVES ANOTHER SET-BACK. "He's in a rage, it's easy to see that. I wonder what he will do next?" Such was the mental question Robert asked when he found himself once more alone. James Talbot had tried a little plan of his own, and it had failed and left him in a worse position than before. He had hoped by offering Robert a good salary--to be paid out of Mrs. Talbot's money--to get the youth under his thumb. But our hero had refused to have anything to do with him and had threatened to do all he could to induce Mrs. Talbot to keep her fortune in her own control. "He's a regular imp," muttered James Talbot, as he hurried down the street, so enraged that he scarcely knew where he was walking. "If he writes home to his mother it will be harder than ever to do anything with her. I wish he was at the bottom of the sea!" His soliloquy was brought to a sudden and unexpected termination when he passed around a corner and ran full tilt into another individual. Both went sprawling, and both were for the instant deprived of their wind. "Who--what--?" spluttered James Talbot, as he picked himself up. "You fool, you!" panted the other individual. "What do you mean by driving into me in this fashion?" "I--I didn't see you," answered Talbot. "You must be blind," stormed the party who had been knocked down. "I'm not blind. I--I--was in a tremendous hurry." James Talbot looked at the other man curiously. "I--er--I--think I've met you before." "I don't remember you." "Isn't your name Livingston Palmer?" "It is." "I saw you in Granville--at the theater, and later on at the railroad station." Palmer, for it was really he, flushed up. "Perhaps you belonged to that mob that assaulted our troupe," he sneered. "Your actions here are in the same line." "No, I had no fault to find with the theatrical company," returned James Talbot slowly. The meeting had surprised him greatly, and he began to wonder how he might turn it to account. "I wonder if you know who I am?" he added, after a pause. "I can't say that I do." "I am James Talbot, the husband of the lady upon whom you called." "Oh! Then you are Robert Frost's step-father," exclaimed Livingston Palmer. "I am. May I ask what induced you to call upon my wife?" Again Palmer flushed up. "I think, Mr. Talbot, that that was my affair." "Do you mean to say you refuse to tell?" "Well, if you must know, I will tell you--so that Mrs. Talbot may not get into trouble over it. Your townpeople treated me so shabbily that I called upon your wife for a small loan, so that I might get back to Chicago." "Humph! Then Robert didn't send you to see her?" "No, Robert knew nothing about my going to Granville." "I thought you and he were great friends?" "So we are, but he didn't know where I was going when we separated."