f the Word of God to thrust it where
it isn't wanted--_margaritas ante porcos_, if you've Latin enough for
that--but when any one asks for it as earnestly as you, me dear Thor--"

Having won what he asked, Thor shook the old man's hand and thanked him,
after which he hurried off to the garage to take out his runabout and
bring Lois's father home from town.

CHAPTER IX

As November and December passed and the new year came in, small
happenings began to remind Thorley Masterman that he was soon to inherit
money. It was a fact which he himself could scarcely credit. Perhaps
because he was not imaginative the condition of being thirty years of
age continued to seem remote even when he was within six weeks of that
goal.

He was first impressed with the rapidity of his approach to it on a
morning when he came late to breakfast, finding at his plate a long
envelope, bearing in its upper left-hand corner the request that in the
event of non-delivery it should be returned to the office of Darling &
Darling, at 27, Commonwealth Row. A glance, which he couldn't help
reading, passed round the table as he took it up. It was not new to him
that among the other members of the household, closely as they were
united, there was a sense of vague injustice because he was coming into
money and they were not.

The communication was brief, stating no more than the fact that in view
of the transfer of the estate which would take place a few weeks later,
Mr. William Darling, the sole trustee, would be glad to see the heir on
a day in the near future, to submit to him the list of investments and
other properties that were to make up his inheritance. Thor saw his
grandfather's money, so long a fairy prospect, as likely to become a
matter of solid cash. The change in his position would be considerable.

As yet, however, his position remained that of a son in his father's
family, and, in obedience to what he knew was expected of him, he read
the note aloud. Though there was an absence of comment, his stepmother,
in passing him his coffee, murmured, caressingly, "Dear old Thor."

"Dear old Thor," Claude mimicked, "will soon be able to do everything he
pleases."

Mrs. Masterman smiled. It was her mission to conciliate. "And what will
that be?"

"I know what it won't be," Claude said, scornfully. "It won't be
anything that has to do with a pretty girl."

Thor flushed. It was one of the minutes at which Claude's taunts gave
him all