Your mother and I have decided to break the news to you before you
leave for home, because there may be better opportunities for you
in the East than here at Indian Creek. When you went away to
Webster University, I agreed to take care of all your expenses. It
was the least I could do, I felt, for my only son. The two thousand
dollars your mother and I had saved seemed ample for your four
years. But the bills we have received, as well as your own demands,
have been staggering. In March, when a scant six hundred dollars of
the original fund remained, I invested the money in a mine stock
which, the salesman said, would easily net the six thousand dollars
you appeared to need. I now find to my chagrin that the stock is
worthless. I am unable to get back my purchase money.
It will be impossible during the coming year for me to let you have
more than five hundred dollars. Perhaps, with what you earn this
summer and with the exercise of economy, you can get along. I trust
so. But, anxious as we are to see you again, we felt that, in the
light of such information, you might prefer to remain in the East
to earn what you can.
We are both despondent over the situation and we wish that we could
do more than tender our regrets. But we hope that you will be able
to find some solution to this situation. Thus, with our very
warmest affection and our fondest hope, we wish you good fortune.
Your loving father,