"You can choose your own course about that, Frank. If your business admits of it, I don't blame you for enjoying life through those sports in which you seem to take such a great interest. But you must stop with me a day or two. I want you to meet my boy, Arthur. He's a fine chap, but just a little inclined to be wild. I have to watch him closely to hold him down, and I'm afraid I don't hold him down all the time. I believe you'll like Art."
They chatted in this manner until Irvington was reached, where they left the train and entered Mr. Hatch's private carriage, which was waiting.
They were driven from the beautiful village to the splendid home of Mr. Hatch, which overlooked the Hudson.
A boy of seventeen or eighteen, with his head bare and his hands in his pockets, was standing on the veranda as they approached.
"There's Art now!" exclaimed Mr. Hatch. "Hello, Art!"
"Hello, dad," coolly responded the boy, without stirring.
"Here, Art, is Mr. Merriwell," said the banker, when they had left the carriage. "Mr. Merriwell, my son."
"How are you, Mr. Merriwell," said Arthur, with a touch of cordiality, as he shook hands with the visitor. "Father has been telling me about you. Says you're a corking fisherman. That was what put you right with him. He's the biggest crank on fishing that I ever saw."
Arthur Hatch was a chap it was not easy to fathom at first sight. He resembled his father slightly, but he was larger and better built, although somewhat too flat across the chest. He seemed to affect a drawl, and the grasp of his hand was not exactly hearty.
"I'll take care of Merriwell now, father, if you don't mind," said the son. "Perhaps I can entertain him until dinner time."
"You'll find I don't need entertaining," laughed Frank. "I particularly dislike to have any one put himself out to entertain me. I feel easier when no effort is made."
They ascended to Art's room, which was on the second floor, and proved to be almost luxurious.
"Now, make yourself at home, Merriwell," drawled the boy, with an air of familiarity. "There is the bathroom."
Frank removed his coat, pulled back his cuffs, and washed his face and hands, which gave him a feeling of freshness.
In the meantime, on returning to Art's room, he found the boy had produced a flask and glasses.