Ahem! Three dollars is quite a sum. I don't know of any other boy in
Riverport who gets as much as three dollars in one week to spend."

"Well, but they haven't as rich a father as I have."

"Ah, quite true," nodded Mr. Bangs, with satisfaction. "I think I can
safely lay claim to being the richest man in this district."

"Then I can have the three dollars?" went on Bob, anxiously.

"Yes. Here you are," and his parent brought forth a well-filled wallet
and handed over three new one-dollar bills.

Bob was stowing the money away in his pocket and congratulating himself
on his luck when a door opened and Mrs. Bangs appeared.

"So you are back, Amos," she said, sweetly. "It has been such a long,
lonesome day without you."

"And a busy day for me," answered Amos Bangs, as he passed into the
sitting room and dropped into an easy chair.

"Did you go to Springfield?"

"I did, and met Tuller and the rest. We've got that thing in our grip
now."

"Yes," she said, vaguely. In reality she took no interest whatever in
her husband's affairs so long as she got what money she desired.

"Yes, sir--we've got the thing just where we want it," continued Amos
Bangs.

"You mean----?" his wife hesitated.

"I mean that iron works affair of course, Viola. Can't you understand
at all?"

"Oh--er--yes, of course. Let me see, you were trying to get control so
you said."

"Exactly, and I've got it."

"Was not that the works in which Mr. Bartlett is interested?"

"The same."

"Did not he have the control?"

"Yes, but I have it now, and I am going to keep it," answered Amos
Bangs, with evident satisfaction.

"Do you mean Jack Bartlett's father, dad?" questioned Bob, eagerly.

"I do."

"Have you got the best of him?"

"Well, I have--ahem--carried my point and the iron works will be
absorbed by the concern in Springfield."

"And Jack Bartlett's father won't like that?"

"No. In fact, I am afraid he will fight it. But he can do nothing,
absolutely nothing," went on Amos Bangs. "I hold the whip hand--and I
shall continue to hold it."

"I hate the Bartletts and I hope you do get the best of them."

"This will make Mrs. Bartlett take a back seat," said Mrs. Bangs,
maliciously.

"Maybe you mean that seat in church," said Bob, slyly.

"Not that particularly, although it is time they went to the rear--they
have had a front seat so long. Amos, we must take a front seat now."

"As you please, Viola."

"And I must have some