"Oh, what a dreadful man!" sobbed Dora, when he was gone. "Dick Rover, what shall I do?" and she looked at him pleadingly.
"It's a puzzle to me, Dora—worse than an example in cube root in algebra!" He smiled sadly. "But if I was you I'd hold out and never let him marry my mother."
"Oh, I will never consent to that—never! But he may marry her anyway."
"If he does, you can apply to the courts for another guardian—if Crabtree doesn't treat you fairly."
"But I do not wish to separate from my mother."
"Well, the only thing to do is to keep fighting him off. In the meantime I'll try to get some folks who know Crabtree well to tell your mother just what a mean, crabbed fellow he is. Undoubtedly he is after the money your father left."
"So I always supposed—but mother does not think so."
"How is your mother?"
"She is doing nicely, and may be out in a week or two. I am keeping her in as long as possible, so that Josiah Crabtree cannot argue her into going off and getting married."
"You certainly have your hands full, Dora,"
