the place. In his amazement he almost forgot his anger with the boy who
could speak of such a sum so lightly.

Ferdy gave him a keen glance. "What are you so huffy about, Keith?" he
demanded. "I don't see that it's anything to you what I say about the
place. You don't own it. I guess a man has a right to say what he
chooses of his own."

Gordon wheeled on him with blazing eyes, then turned around and walked
abruptly away. He could scarcely keep back his tears. The other boy
watched him nonchalantly, and then turned to Mr. Rhodes, who was
glowering over his papers. "I'll take him down a point or two. He's
always blowing about his blamed old place as if he still owned it. He's
worse than the old man, who is always blowing about 'before the war' and
his grandfather and his old pictures. I can buy better ancestors on
Broadway for twenty dollars."

Mr. Rhodes gathered up his papers and rose to his feet.

"You could not make yourself as good a descendant for a million," he
said, fastening his eye grimly on Ferdy.

"Oh, couldn't I? Well, I guess I could. I guess I am about as good as he
is, or you either."

"Well, you can leave me out of the case," said Mr. Rhodes, sharply. "I
will tell you that you are not as good as he, for he would never have
said to you what you have said to him if your positions had been
reversed."