Then, besides, I have no use for being thanked. I'd have done
as much for a tramp that I had never seen before."
"I am afraid you have reasons for disliking Fred Ripley," admitted
Mrs. Prescott. "But has the elder Mr. Ripley ever given you any
cause for disliking him?"
"No; of course not."
"Then wouldn't it be the part of courtesy for you to go, since
he requests it?"
"But, if he wants to thank me, why shouldn't he come here?"
"My boy, it is one of the privileges of older persons to expect
younger ones to come to them."
"I guess that's right," nodded Dick. "Oh, well, I'll go. But,
if Mr. Ripley has anything to pass in the way of thanks, I hope
he'll cut it short."
So, at three o'clock, Dick climbed the stairs and knocked at the
office door.
The lawyer himself opened.
"Oh, how do you do, Prescott?" demanded Lawyer Ripley, holding
out his hand. "I'm most heartily glad to see you. You didn't
see anything of my indolent son on the street, did you?"
"No, sir," the freshman answered, adding, to himself:
"I should hope not!"
"Come into my private office won't you, Prescott?" asked the lawyer,
leading the way through his outer office.
The elder Ripley placed a comfortable arm-chair for his freshman
caller, asking him to be seated.
Though Lawyer Ripley was, ordinarily, a rather pompous and purseproud
sort of man, it was plain that he realized a debt of gratitude,
and meant to pay it as graciously as he knew how to do.
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