After Grant’s departure his mother felt very lonely. She found very little satisfaction in the company of her husband, who became more miserly as he grew older. He began also to show signs of breaking health, and this did not escape the vigilant¹ eyes of his daughter, Mrs. Sophia Bartlett, and her husband. They were not at all insensible to the fact that their father’s property was a snug² one, and that it would make them very comfortable when added to their own.

Sophia Bartlett began to feel suspicious that her father’s second wife would attempt, by undue³ influence, to obtain more than her share of the estate. At least once a week she was accustomed to drive over with her son Rodney, when her husband was occupied by business, and learn all she could of what was going on at the Tarbox farm.

304Rodney generally inquired after Grant, but not from friendly motives⁴.

Some months after Grant’s departure one of these visits was in progress.

“Have you heard from Grant, Mrs. Tarbox?” he asked, for it was in this way he always addressed his grandfather’s wife.

“I heard last week,” answered Grant’s mother.

“How is he getting along?”

“He had just arrived in California. The journey across the plains is a long and tedious one.”

“Did he have anything to do?”

“He was expecting work.”

“Probably he won’t get any,” said Seth Tarbox. “The boy made a fool of himself when he left home. He might have had a good livin’ here, but he was sot on trampin’ to California.”

“That’s the way I feel,” said Sophia Bartlett. “Young folks don’t know what is best for themselves. As likely as not the boy will be sending home for money to get back.”

“He won’t get none from me,” muttered Mr. 305Tarbox emphatically, “and I want that understood.”

“He isn’t very likely to send to you, Mr. Tarbox,” said his wife, indignant at this attack upon Grant.

“I dunno about that. He’s a headstrong boy, and always was.”

“I am glad that my son Rodney is a good and dutiful boy, and is willing to be guided by my advice and his grandfather’s.”

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