Crawford
is your father. It isn't right that Peter,
your stepbrother, should be supported in ease
and luxury, while you, the real son, should
be subjected to privation and want."
"I don't know but you are right," admitted
Carl, slowly.
"Of course I am right. Now, will you make
me your minister plenipotentiary, armed with
full powers?"
"Yes, I believe I will."
"That's right. That shows you are a boy
of sense. Now, as you are subject to my
directions, just get on that bicycle and I will
carry your gripsack, and we will seek Vance
Villa, as we call it when we want to be high-
toned, by the most direct route."
"No, no, Gilbert; I will carry my own
gripsack. I won't burden you with it," said Carl,
rising from his recumbent position.
"Look here, Carl, how far have you walked
with it this morning?"
"About twelve miles."
"Then, of course, you're tired, and require
rest. Just jump on that bicycle, and I'll take
the gripsack. If you have carried it twelve
miles, I can surely carry it one."
"You are very kind, Gilbert."
"Why shouldn't I be?"
"But it is imposing up on your good nature."
But Gilbert had turned his head in a backward
direction, and nodded in a satisfied way
as he saw a light, open buggy rapidly approaching.
"There's my sister in that carriage," he said.
"She comes in good time. I will put you and
your gripsack in with her, and I'll take to my
bicycle again."
"Your sister may not like such an arrangement."
"Won't she though! She's very fond of
beaux, and she will receive you very graciously.
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