yourself in future, I will pay your debts, send you West, and give you a job as operator at forty dollars a month.  But—­you will go where I send you, and you will stay where you are put.  I will do the thinking for both of us and judge of your associates.  Maybe if you prove to be any good at all, I will arrange with the police to let you spend your vacations in “that dear New York,” which still shows signs of your red—­paint brush.  I would be pleased to have an apology by return mail, so that I may meet you in New Orleans and start you off once more on the road to decency and self-respect.  You will never be a success at anything, but I am always ready to do my duty.  This is my last offer, and if you refuse you may distinctly and definitely go to the devil.  As ever,

Your loving father, Darwin K. Anthony.

P.S.—­I can get good operators for thirty dollars a month.  The extra ten dollars is pure sentiment.

Kirk had known in advance just about what the letter contained, and now laughed aloud.  It was so like the old gentleman!  Why, he could almost hear him dictating it.

Spurred by his present exhilaration, he wrote an answer, which he read with a good deal of satisfaction before sealing it up.

Dear dad,-Your affectionate letter, with the kind offer to take charge of a siding out in the Dakotas, is at hand.  I would like to help you along with your business, but “Upward and onward” is my motto, and you’ll have to raise that salary a bit.  I am drawing two hundred and twenty-five dollars a month at present, quarters furnished and promotion promised.  I have made some good investments, and there are no debts to settle.  Enclosed find my last bank statement, which will doubtless prove a great disappointment to you.

If you need a good Master of Transportation, I would be pleased to consider an offer at any time, provided the salary is satisfactory, but your proposal to edit my acquaintances is out of the question.  My decency and self respect are doing well, thank you, and I like the climate.

Outside my window a mocking-bird sings nightly, and I have a tame rabbit with ears like a squirrel and baby-blue eyes—­also a Jamaican negro boy who, I fear, could not stand our harsh Northern winters.

The salary would have to be about six thousand a year.  As always,

Your devoted and obedient son, Kirk.

P.S.—­I would not care to locate farther west than Buffalo.  My wife might not like it.

“If he survives the first part, that tag line will put him down for the count,” mused the writer, with a grin.  “And, yet, something tells me he will not embrace my offer.  Ah, well!  Promotion is slow.”  He whistled blithely as he sent Allan off to the post-office.

Kirk lost no time in calling at the bank, but was disappointed to learn that Senor Andres Garavel had left the city for an unexpected business tour of the Provinces and would not return for at least two weeks.  At first he was inclined to doubt the truth of this statement, but a casual inquiry from Mrs. Cortlandt confirmed it, and, cursing his luck, he sought distraction where he could most easily find it.