His eyes shone with vindictive cunning. He had tried to injure Merriwell, but vainly. Therefore, it was quite natural that he should bear bitter hatred toward the fellow he had tried to injure.
He saw that by working through Randall he would be freed of all personal responsibility, and this thought cheered on his little soul. He was willing enough to do anything for which another could be made to suffer, and this sort of chicanery was precisely what he could do well.
None the less, he did not forget that he wanted money. He saw that his father’s scheme depended upon him, and grinned evilly.
“Hey?” Colonel Carson glared. “What do you mean?”
“Come across, I said!” Bully lolled back negligently in his chair, and eyed his father coolly. “I ain’t workin’ for my health.”
“Confound your insolence!” sputtered the other angrily. “You’re working for me! I’ll give you no money to squander, you reprobate!”
“Nothin’ doing, then, old tightwad,” and Bully made as if to hand back the folded paper. He carelessly took his cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a cloud of vile-smelling smoke.
“Why--do you mean--do you refuse to go to Fardale?” Colonel Carson was almost speechless with rage.
Colonel Carson reached into his pocket and drew out two five-dollar bills.
“Here’s ten dollars--take it or leave it. Go to Fardale and stay over Saturday. Use this as expense money.”
“You’ll do what I say! Take this expense money and work this business, and you get ten per cent of the winnings. Refuse, and you can go to the dickens for all o’ me! I’ll not have a worthless thing like you loafin’ around here any longer, understand?”
It was the first time Bully had ever seen his father aroused against him, and he was cowed. Reaching out, he took the money and put it in his pocket with the paper.
“All right,” he said, “I’ll do it.” But to himself he muttered sullenly: “And I’ll have a wad to bet on that game--somehow!”
And once more Colonel Carson complacently tugged at his goatee.
CHAPTER XXIX. A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN CASH.
With eight dollars in his pocket, after purchasing his railroad ticket, Bully Carson climbed aboard the express.
He did not go into a Pullman, for that would cost more money. Instead, he sauntered up to the smoking car, rolling a cigarette as he went. For this occasion he had abandoned his “swellest” clothes, being simply clad in a black-and-white, shiny-buttoned suit that shrieked aloud, a plain orange-and-white necktie, and a pair of patent-leather shoes with green uppers. Bully desired to avoid all prominence during his stay in Fardale, and so had picked out his meekest raiment for the trip.