I disown you!
You are no blood of mine!"
"I guess you forget," sneered Bert cunningly that you are responsible
for me, and that you will have to pay my bills."
"Not a penny of them," retorted the banker sternly. "It is you
who forget that you reached the age of twenty-one just three days
ago. You are your own master, sir---and your own provider! Now,
go---and never again let any of your family hear from the scoundrel
who has disgraced us all."
Vainly Bert opened his mouth, trying to speak. The words would
not come. His father again advancing threateningly, Bert edged
towards the door.
"This looks like your fun, as it is your work, Dick Prescott!"
snarled the wretch. "Wait! If it takes me ten years I'll make
you suffer for this!"
Crash! Mr. Dodge had again raised his cane to strike the young
man. But Bert had pulled open the door, closing it after him
as he fled, and only the plate-glass panel stopped the fall of
the cane.
"I'll pay for the damage done to your door Griffin," promised
the banker.
"Don't worry about that, sir," nodded the attorney.
"I feel that we've been here long enough, gentlemen," broke in
Cadet Prescott, as he and Greg rose. "Mr. Dodge, I can't begin
to tell you how sorry I am that this scene was necessary.
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