The portly figure in evening clothes was not calculated to put a culprit at ease. Old Planter sat very straight. The carefully trimmed white side whiskers, the white hair, the bushy brows above inflamed eyes, composed a portrait suggestive of a power relentless and not to be trifled with. George had boasted he was as good as any one. He knew he wasn't as good as Old Planter; their disparity of attainment was too easily palpable. No matter whether Old Planter's success was worthy, he had gone out into the world and done things. He had manipulated railroads. He had piled up millions whose number he couldn't be sure of himself. He had built this house and all it stood for. What one man had done another could. George stopped pulling at his cap. He threw it on the table as into a ring. His momentary fear died. "You sent for me, sir." The mark of respect flowed naturally. This old fellow was entitled to it, from him or any one else. The bass voice had a dynamic quality. "I did. This afternoon you grossly and inexcusably insulted my daughter. It will be necessary to speak of her to you just once more. That's why I told your father to send you. If I were younger it would give me pleasure to break every bone in your body." The red lips opened and shut with the precision of a steel trap. They softened now in a species of smile. "I see, Morton, you had a little argument with a horse this afternoon." George managed to smile back. "Nothing to speak of, sir." "I wish it had been. I take a pleasure in punishing you. It isn't biblical, but it's human. I'm only sorry I can't devise a punishment to fit the crime." "It was no crime," George said bravely, "no insult." "Keep your mouth shut. Unfortunately I can't do much more than run you away from here, for I don't care to evict your parents from their home for your folly; and they do not support you. Mr. Evans will pay you off in the morning with a month's extra wages." "I won't take a cent I haven't earned," George said. Old Planter studied him with more curiosity. "You're a queer livery stable boy." "I'm banking on that," George said, willing the other should make what he would of it. "It's there if you wish it," Old Planter went on. "I sent for you so that I could tell you myself that you will be away from Oakmont and from the neighbourhood by noon to-morrow. And remember your home is now a portion of Oakmont. You will never come near us again. You will forget what happened this afternoon." He stood up, his face reddening. George wanted to tell him that Sylvia herself had said he shouldn't forget. "If, Morton," the old man went on with a biting earnestness, "once you're away from Oakmont, you ever bother Miss Sylvia again, or make any attempt to see her, I'll dispossess your parents, and I'll drive you out of any job you get. I'll keep after you until you'll understand what you're defying. This isn't an idle threat. I have the power."