et.

Larry Henderson had long since gone back to his wilderness home beyond
Bear Mountain. Twice had Tom received a letter from the old naturalist,
in which he asked a great many questions, all concerning the boys of
Lenox, in whom he had not lost interest, and what progress the new
troop was making.

He also expressed a hearty wish that should they ever take a trip
through the section of country where he lived they would not neglect to
look him up in his cabin.

One thing Tom and Carl had noticed of late, and this was that Dock
Phillips had taken to going with that tough crowd again. For a while
his work in the grocery store had tired him so much each day that when
evening came he had been content to go to his home, eat his supper, and
then crawl in between the sheets.

Once more Dock was to be seen hanging around the street corners late at
night with that group of rowdies that gave the uniformed force so much
trouble. Some of them only escaped arrest on numerous occasions because
their fathers happened to be local politicians whom the police did not
wish to offend.

Tom and Carl talked this fact over and arrived at a conclusion, which
may, and again may not, have been the true explanation.

"Dock's getting tired of holding down his job," Tom had said, "He's
been out of school so long now that he can't be sent back; and he
doesn't like hard work either. Since his father signed the pledge he's
been working steadily enough, and perhaps Dock gets into trouble at
home because of his temper."

"I happen to know he does for a fact," assented Carl. "He's been acting
hateful, staying out up to midnight every night, and his father has
threatened to pitch him out. I rather think he's lazy, and wants to
loaf."

"Perhaps he thinks that he ought to be drawing a regular salary because
of that paper he's got hidden away, and which is worth so much to Amasa
Culpepper, as well as to you. To keep him quiet it may be, the old man
is paying him a few dollars every week on the sly, even though he
refuses to come down with a big lump sum."

"Tom, would it be right for me to have another talk with Dock, and make
him an offer?" ventured Carl, hesitatingly.

"Do you mean try to find out what the sum is he asked Amasa to pay
him?" questioned Tom; "and agree to hand it over to him just as soon as
the stock of the oil well company can be sold, after your mother gets
it again?"

"Yes, like that. Would it be wrong in me? anything lik