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"What could have induced your mother to make such a will?"
"I cannot believe my poor mother ever made such a will; but, if she did, I am very sure that she was over-persuaded by my stepfather, who is one of the most plausible of men."
"What shall you do about it?"
"What can I do? I am only a boy. I have no proof, you know."
"How are you likely to be treated?"
"I have had a little foretaste of that."
"It looks very bad for you, Frank," admitted Herbert, in a tone of sympathy.
"I don't so much care for the loss of the property, Herbert," said Frank, "but I am afraid I shall have sorts of annoyances to endure from Mark and his father. But I won't antic.i.p.ate trouble. I will do my duty, and trust that things will turn out better than I fear."
The next afternoon a letter was placed in Frank's hands. It was in a brown envelope, and directed in a cramped and evidently unpracticed hand, with which Frank was not familiar.
On opening it, a glance at the signature showed that it was from Richard Green, the coachman. It commenced:
"Dear Mr. Frank: This comes hoping you are well. I have no good news to tell. Mr. Manning has sold your horse, Ajax, and he is to be taken away to-night. I thought you ought to know it, and that is why I take my pen in hand to write."
There was more, but this is all that was important.
Frank's face flushed with anger. He immediately went in search of Mark, who, he felt a.s.sured, knew of the sale.
It may be said here that Ajax was one of Frank's dearest trophies, a gift from his mother.
CHAPTER VIII
A NEW PLAN
Mark was in his room, where Frank found him trying on a new necktie.
Though decidedly plain, Mark fancied himself very good-looking, and spent no little time on personal adornment. In particular, he had a weakness for new neckties, in which he indulged himself freely.
When the boys came to the academy, the princ.i.p.al proposed that they should room together; but both objected, and Mark had a room to himself--no one caring to room with him.
"Take a seat, Frank," said Mark, condescendingly. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Yes," answered Frank. "I hear your father has sold Ajax, or is intending to do so. Will you tell me if it is true?"
"I believe it is," answered Mark, indifferently.
"And what right has he to sell my horse?" demanded Frank, indignantly.
"You'd better ask him," said Mark, with provoking coolness.
"It is an outrage," said Frank, indignantly.
"As to that," said his stepbrother, "you can't expect father to be at the expense of feeding your horse."
"With my money?"
"The money is legally his," replied Mark.
"Do you know to whom your father has sold Ajax?"
"To Col. Vincent, I believe."
"I am glad, at any rate, that he will have a good master."
Frank felt that there would be no advantage in prolonging the interview, or carrying on further a war of words.
He sought out his friend Herbert, and communicated to him this last infraction of his rights.
"It is too bad, Frank!" said his sympathizing friend.
"Yes, it is," said Frank, gravely; "but I fear it is only the beginning of annoyances. I don't believe I can ever live in any place with Mr.
Manning or Mark."
"Will it be necessary?"
"I suppose so. I have no money, as you know. All has gone to him.
Herbert, I tell you frankly, I envy you and your position."
"Though my father is a poor man?"
"Yes; for, at any rate, you have a peaceful home, and a father and mother who love you. I have a stepfather, who will do all he can to make me miserable."
"Would you be willing to work for your own support, Frank?"
"Yes; far rather than remain a dependent on Mr. Manning."
"Suppose you should run away," suggested Herbert.
Frank shook his head.
"I wouldn't do that except in case of extreme necessity. I know that if my mother knows what goes on here, it would grieve her for me to take such a step."
"Suppose your stepfather should consent to your leaving home?"
"Then I would do so gladly. I am willing to work and I think I could make a living in some way."
"Why not ask him?"
Frank's face brightened.