Dick had at last procured the consent of his grandfather, without which
it would have been impossible for him to go. Everybody wondered why they
had not thought of that before, and laughed at the overnight business.

On his return to the rectory, Dick met his mother in the porch.

"Mother!" he cried, in a voice that was husky with emotion. "I've got to
go. I've just given my name in to the colonel, and the money must be
found somehow. Ormsby has dared to insinuate that I'm a coward. I--"

"It's all right, Dick. You can have your outfit; I've got enough. I
suppose five hundred dollars will cover it?"

"It'll have to, if that's all I can get, mother."

"That is all I can spare."

"Out of grandfather's two thousand?"

"Most of it has already gone. A thousand to your father for the builder
man, a hundred to that wretch who was here yesterday, and the rest to pay
some of my own debts. My luck has deserted me lately. I shall have to beg
of your grandfather again to get the five hundred you want."

Dick groaned.

"I know, my boy, that it is very humiliating to have to beg for money
which really belongs to one--for it does belong to us, to you and me, I
mean--as much as to him, doesn't it? It's maddening to think that the law
allows a man to ruin his relations because senility has weakened his
intellect."

"He's an old brute," growled Dick, as he strode away.

CHAPTER V

DEBTS

Vivian Ormsby smarted under the blow given him by Dick at the dinner, and
burned to avenge the affront. He tingled with impatience to get another
look at the dubious check which promised such unexceptional possibilities
of retaliation if, as he suspected and hoped, it was a forgery. Dick
Swinton, publicly denounced as a felon, could not possibly hold up his
head again; and as a rival in love he would be remorselessly wiped out.
The young upstart should learn the penalty of striking an Ormsby.

The captain was a familiar figure at the bank, which belonged almost
entirely to his father and himself, and he had his private room there,
where he appeared at intervals. Now, Ormsby sat at his desk in the
manager's room. He rang the bell and ordered the check to be brought to
him once more. Then, he asked for Herresford's pass-book, and any checks
in the old man's handwriting that were available. He displayed renewed
eagerness in comparing the handwriting in the body of the check with
others of a recent date. The result of his scrutiny was