like to come down to Cuba and be a planter, my boy?"

"I'm not so sure that I'd like to," replied the eldest.

"Well, that's straight-spoken. What have you against it?"

"Nothing, except that I don't know anything about it."

"What do you know?"

The boy smiled wisely. "Not very much, I guess."

"Well, what are you interested in?"

"Money!"

"Aha! What's bred in the bone, eh? Get something of that from your
father, eh? Well, that's a good trait. And spoken like a man, too! We'll
hear more about that later. Nancy, you're breeding a financier here, I
think. He talks like one."

He looked at Frank carefully now. There was real force in that sturdy
young body--no doubt of it. Those large, clear gray eyes were full of
intelligence. They indicated much and revealed nothing.

"A smart boy!" he said to Henry, his brother-in-law. "I like his get-up.
You have a bright family."

Henry Cowperwood smiled dryly. This man, if he liked Frank, might do
much for the boy. He might eventually leave him some of his fortune. He
was wealthy and single.

Uncle Seneca became a frequent visitor to the house--he and his negro
body-guard, Manuel, who spoke both English and Spanish, much to the
astonishment of the children; and he took an increasing interest in
Frank.

"When that boy gets old enough to find out what he wants to do, I think
I'll help him to do it," he observed to his sister one day; and she told
him she was very grateful. He talked to Frank about his studies,
and found that he cared little for books or most of the study he was
compelled to pursue. Grammar was an abomination. Literature silly. Latin
was of no use. History--well, it was fairly interesting.

"I like bookkeeping and arithmetic," he observed. "I want to get out and
get to work, though. That's what I want to do."

"You're pretty young, my son," observed his uncle. "You're only how old
now? Fourteen?"

"Thirteen."

"Well, you can't leave school much before sixteen. You'll do better
if you stay until seventeen or eighteen. It can't do you any harm. You
won't be a boy again."

"I don't want to be a boy. I want to get to work."

"Don't go too fast, son. You'll be a man soon enough. You want to be a
banker, do you?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Well, when the time comes, if everything is all right and you've
behaved yourself and you still want to, I'll help you get a start in
business. If I were you and were going to be a banker, I'd first spend
a year or so in