"That's right, I'm glad of it," said the old man, taking a chair, and apparently more at his ease. "She'll be a cat one of these days, hang her! But look here, boy. Don't you look at her. The jade's ready to lead on everybody she sees. If I were not her uncle, I believe she'd set her cap at me. Now, look here: I told you at first, and I tell you again, I'll have no fooling." "Give me one of those cigars of yours," said Geoffrey, rather bluntly, and apparently without paying any heed to the old man's words. "I want a smoke." "Humph! Things are going crooked with you, then, are they?" "Very!" said Geoffrey. "But come out to the summer-house, and let's feel the free air." "Here, catch hold!" cried the old man, holding out a black cheroot. "That's the only good trait in your character, boy, you do know a good cigar. He, he, he! You should try some I keep for Rumsey, and fellows like that." "Thanks, no," said Geoffrey. "Ah! I told you how it would be," continued the old man, as they entered the look-out and took their seats. "I told you how it would be. I knew it well enough. So I did." They sat looking at each other for a few moments. "You can't get an engagement then, my lad, eh?" "No," said Geoffrey, lighting up; "not yet." "No; nor you won't. That you won't," chuckled the old man, as Geoffrey sat himself on the summer-house table, and, thrusting his hands in his pockets, began swinging one leg backwards and forwards. "I've tried at twenty mines in the month I've been here," said Geoffrey, "and pointed out ways of saving that would pay me a good salary ten times over, and put money in the proprietors' or shareholders' pockets." "Yes, and they laugh at you, don't they?" "Confoundedly," said Geoffrey. "Keep that leg still," said the old man, poking at the swinging member with his cane. Geoffrey gave the cane a kick, and sent it flying out on to the grass-plot, making Uncle Paul turn white with rage; but the young man got leisurely down and picked it up, retaining it in his hand as he reseated himself, and began making passes with it at a knot in the wood. "Give me my cane," said the old man, angrily. "They're as blind as moles to their own interests," said Geoffrey. "Do you hear? Give me my cane." "And treat all my advances as if I were trying to trick and defraud them." "I say, give me my cane!" cried the old man. "They flatly tell me that my plans are new-fangled and foolish, and that they'll have none of them." "Confound you, you insolent puppy! Will you give me my cane?" "They're as hard to move as so many mules," said Geoffrey, handing the cane, and smiling in the old man's face. Uncle Paul snatched the cane, and made a threatening gesture as if about to strike, when Geoffrey held out one hand, school-boy fashion, for a cut on the palm, and the old man made as if to give it a vicious blow; but, as the other did not flinch, he checked the fall of the cane, and sat showing his yellow teeth.